Ha 


I 


OG    SCHOOL-HOUSE    ON 

THE  Columbia 


A    TALE  OF    THE   PIONEERS  OF  THE 
GREAT  NORTHWEST 


BY 

HEZEKrAii  Hi:  rrKinvoKTii 

AL'TIIOK  OP  THE   ZIO/.AU    BOOKa 

ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 
D.    APPT.KTON     A   N  I)    COMI'ANY 

1890 


CoPYKKillT.    KiOO, 

Dt  d.  ahpi.eton  and  company. 


51^ 


PREFACE. 


A  YEAR  or  more  ago  one  of  the  librarians  in 
charge  of  the  young  people's  books  in  the  Boston 
Public  Library  called  my  attention  to  the  fact  that 
there  were  few  books  of  popular  information  in 
regard  to  the  pioneers  of  the  great  Northwest. 
The  librarian  suggested  that  I  should  write  a  story 
that  would  give  a  view  of  the  heroic  lives  of  the 
pioneers  of  Oregon  and  Washington. 

Soon  after  this  interview  I  met  a  distinguished 
educator  who  had  lately  returned  from  the  Colum- 
bia River,  who  told  me  the  legend  of  the  old  chief 
who  died  of  grief  in  the  grave  of  his  son,  somewhat 
in  the  manner  described  in  this  volume.  The  le- 
gend had  those  incidental  qualities  that  haunt  a 
susceptible  imagination,  and  it  was  told  to  me  in 
such  a  dramatic  way  that  I  could  not  put  it  out  of 
my  mind. 

A  few  weeks  after  hearing  this  haunting  legend 


4  PREFACE. 

1  went  over  the  Tlocky  Mountains  by  the  Canmh'an 
Pacitic  Kailway,  and  visited  the  Cohunl)ia  River 
and  the  scenes  associated  with  tlie  Indian  story.  I 
met  in  Washington,  Yesler,  Dehney,  and  Hon.  El- 
wood  Evans,  the  historian ;  visited  the  daughter  of 
Seattle,  the  chief,  "  Old  Angeline " ;  and  gathered 
original  stories  in  regard  to  the  i)ioneers  of  the 
Puget  Sound  country  from  many  sources.  In  this 
atmosphere  the  legend  grew  upon  me,  and  the  out- 
growth of  it  is  this  volume,  whicli,  amid  a  busy 
life  of  editorial  and  other  work,  has  forced  itself 

upon  my  experience. 
^  II.  B. 

28  WoRCKSTER  Street,  Boston,  July  4, 1890. 


CONTENTS. 


•  • 


CIIAITKR 

I.— Gretchen's  Violin  .... 
II. — The  Coief  of  the  Cascades 
HI.— "  Boston'  TiLiruM  " 
IV. — ^Iks.    Woods's     Tame     1'>ear,     Lttti-e     "  Hon 

Over" 

V. — The  Nest  of  the  Fishino  Eaole 

VI. — The  Mountain  Lion 

VII.— The  "Smoke-Talk" 

VIII. — The  Black  EAOLffs  Nest  of  the  Falls  of  the 

Missouri 

IX. — Oretchen's  Visit    to  the    Old  Chief  of  the 

Cascades      

X. — Mrs.    Woods    meets    Little    "  Holl    Over 

AGAIN 

XT. — Marlowe  Manx's  New  IIobixson  Crusoe    . 

XII. — Old  Joe  Meek  and  Mr.  Spauldino     . 

XIII.— A  Warning 

XIV. — The  Potlatcii 

XV. — The  Traumerei  again  .... 


VAOK 

1) 
27 

4;} 


86 
95 

114 

127 

14G 
154 
102 
170 
181 
190 


e 


CONTENTS. 


CIIAPTKB  PAOR 

XVI,— A  Silent  Tribe 204 

XVII.— A  Desolate  Home  and  a  Desolate  People    .  215 
XVIII. — The  Lifted  Cloud— Toe  Indians  come  to  the 

Schoolmaster    221 


Historical  Notes. 
I.  Vancouver 
II.  The  Oregon  Trail  . 

III.  Governor  Stevens   . 

IV.  Seattle  the  Chief    . 

V.  Whitman's  Ride  for  Oregon 
VI.  Mount  Saint  Helens 


229 
282 
23G 
230 
244 
250 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

Gretchen  at  tho  Potlatch  Feast    .        .  E.  J.  Aiiftten 

Frontispiece 

Indians  spearing  fish  at  Salmon  Falls  16 

"  Here  were  mountains  grander  than 
Olympus."  The  North  Puyallup 
Glacier,  Mount  Tacoma         .        .  88 

In  the  midst  of  this  interview  Mrs. 
Woods  appeared  ut  the  door  of 
the  cabin A.  E.  Pope    .        .      72 

Tho  eagle  soared  away  in  the  blue 
heavens,  and  the  flag  streamed 
after  him  in  his  talons  .        .        .  E,  J.  Austen .        .      84 

The  mountain  lion        .        .        .        .  D.  Carter  Beard  .      92 

An  Indian  village  on  the  Columbia     .  130 

Afar  loomed  Moimt  Ilood    ...  135 

A  castellated  crag  arose  solitary  and 

solemn 14S 

At  the  Cascatles  of  the  Columbia        .  183 

Multnomah  Falls  in  earlier  years. 

Redrawn  by  Walter  C.  Greenough    205 

The  old  chief  stood  stoical  and  silent .  E.  J.  Austere        .      209 

Middle  block-house  at  the  Cascades     .  242 


THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE 
ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 


CIIAPTEU  I. 


GUKTCllEN  8    VIOLIX. 

An  elderly  woman   and   a  German  p^rl  were 

walking  along  the  old  Indian  trail  that  led  from  the 

northern  mountains  to  the  Columbia  lliver.     The 

river  was  at  this  time  commonly  called  the  Oregon, 

as  in  Bryant's  poem  : 

"  Where  rolls  the  Orepon, 
And  no  sound  is  heard  save  its  own  dashings." 

The  girl  had  a  light  figure,  a  fair,  open  face, 
and  a  high  forehead  with  width  in  the  region 
of  ideality,  and  she  carried  under  her  arm  a  long 
black  case  in  which  was  a  violin.  The  woman  hud 
lived  in  one  of  the  valleys  of  the  Oregon  for  sev- 
eral years,  but  the  German  girl  had  recently  arrived 
in  one  of  the  colonies  that  had  lately  come  to  the 


10    THE  LOG  SCnOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

territory  under  the  missionary  agency  of  the  Rev. 
Jason  Lee. 

There  came  a  break  in  the  tall,  cool  pines  that 
lined  the  trail  and  that  covered  the  path  with  glim- 
mering shadows.  Through  the  opening  the  high 
sunnnits  of  Mount  St.  Helens  glittered  like  a  city 
of  pearl,  far,  far  away  in  the  clear,  bright  air.  The 
girl's  blue  eyes  opened  wide,  and  her  feet  8tunil)led. 

"  There,  there  you  go  again  down  in  the  hol- 
low !  Haven't  you  any  eyes  ?  I  would  think  you 
had  by  the  looks  of  them.  AVell,  Gretchen,  they 
were  placed  right  in  the  front  of  your  head  so  as 
to  look  forward ;  they  would  havv)  been  put  in  the 
top  of  your  head  if  it  had  been  meant  that  you 
should  look  up  to  the  sky  in  that  way.  What  is  it 
you  see  ? " 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  wish  I  was — an  author." 

"  An  author  !  What  jout  that  into  your  simple 
head  ?  You  meant  to  say  you  would  like  to  be  a 
poet,  but  you  didn't  dare  to,  because  you  know  I 
don't  approve  of  such  things.  People  who  get 
such  flighty  ideas  into  their  loose  minds  always  find 
the  world  full  of  hollows.  No,  Gretchen,  I  am 
willing  you  should  play  on  the  violin,  though  some 
of  the  Methody  do  not  approve  of  that ;  and  that 
you  should  finger  the  musical  glasses  in  the  evening 


GRETCHEN'S  VIOLIN.  IX 

— they  have  a  religious  sound  and  soothe  me,  like  ; 
but  the  reading  of  poetry  and  novels  I  never  did 
countenance,  except  JMethody  hymns  and  the  '  Fool 
of  Quality,'  and  as  for  the  writing  of  poetry,  it  is 
a  Boston  notion  and  an  ornary  habit.  Nature  is  all 
full  of  poetry  out  here,  and  what  this  country  needs 
is  pioneers,  not  poets." 

There  came  into  view  another  opening  among 
the  pines  as  the  two  went  on.  The  sun  was  ascend- 
ing a  cloudless  sky,  and  far  away  in  the  cerulean 
arch  of  glimmering  8j)lendors  the  crystal  peaks  and 
domes  of  St.  Helens  a])peared  again. 

The  girl  stopped. 

"  Wliat  now  ? "  said  the  woman,  testily. 

"  Look — yonder  ! " 

"  Look  yonder — what  for  ?  That's  nothing  but 
a  mountain,  a  great  waste  of  land  all  piled  up  to 
the  sky,  and  covered  with  a  lot  of  ice  and  snow.  I 
don't  see  what  they  were  made  for,  any  way — just 
to  make  people  go  round,  I  suppose,  so  that  the 
world  will  not  be  too  easy  for  them." 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  do  not  see  how  you  can  feel  so 
out  here !  I  never  dreamed  of  anything  so  beau- 
tiful ! " 

"  Feel  so  out  here  !  Wliat  do  yon  mean  ? 
Haven't  I  always  been  good  to  you  ?     Didn't  I  give 


12    THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBL\. 

you  a  good  home  in  Lynn  after  your  father  and 
mother  died  i  Wasn't  I  a  mother  to  you  ?  Didn't 
I  nurse  you  tlirough  the  fever  ?  Didn't  I  send  for 
you  to  come  way  out  here  witli  the  immigrants, 
and  did  you  ever  find  a  better  friend  in  the  world 
than  I  liave  l)een  to  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  mother,  but — " 

"  And  don't  I  let  you  play  the  violin,  which  the 
Methody  elder  didn't  much  approve  of  ? " 

"Yes,  mother,  you  have  always  been  good  to 
me,  and  I  love  you  more  than  anybody  else  on 
earth." 

There  swept  into  view  a  wild  valley  of  giant 
trees,  and  rose  clear  above  it,  a  scene  of  overwhehn- 
ing  magnificence. 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  can  hardly  look  at  it — isn't  it 
splendid  ?     It  makes  me  feel  like  crying." 

The  practical,  resolute  woman  was  about  to  say, 
"Well,  look  the  other  way  then,"  but  she  checked 
the  rude  words.  The  girl  had  told  her  that  she 
loved  her  more  than  any  one  else  in  the  world,  and 
the  confession  had  touched  her  heart. 

"  Well,  Gretchen,  that  mountain  used  to  make 
me  feel  so  sometimes  when  I  first  came  out  here. 
I  always  thought  that  the  mountains  would  look 
2)eaJceder  than  they  do.     I  didn't  think  that  they 


GRETCUEN'S  VIOLIN.  13 

would  take  lip  so  miicli  of  the  kiid.  I  suppose  that 
they  are  all  well  eiioupjh  in  their  way,  but  a  i)ioneer 
woman  has  no  time  for  sentiments,  except  hymns. 
I  don't  feel  like  you  now,  and  I  don't  think  that  1 
ever  did.  I  couldn't  learn  to  play  the  violin  and 
the  musical  glasses  if  I  were  to  try,  and  I  am  sure 
that  I  should  never  go  out  into  the  woodshed  to  try 
to  rhyme  sun  with  fun^  no,  Gretchen,  all  such 
follies  as  these  I  should  shun.  "What  difference 
does  it  make  whether  a  word  rhymes  with  one 
word  or  another  ? " 

To  the  eye  of  the  poetic  and  musical  German 
girl  the  dead  volcano,  with  its  green  base  and 
frozen  rivers  and  dark,  glimmering  lines  of  carbon, 
seemed  like  a  fairy  tale,  a  celestial  vision,  an  ascent 
to  some  city  of  crystal  and  pearl  in  the  sky.  To 
her  foster  mother  the  stupendous  scene  was  merely 
a  worthless  waste,  as  to  "Wordsworth's  unspiritual 
wanderer : 

"  A  primrose  by  the  river's  brim, 
A  yellow  primrose  was  to  him, 
And  it  was  nothing  more." 

She  was  secretly  pleased  at  Gretchen's  wonder 
and  surprise  at  the  new  country,  but  somehow  she 
felt  it  her  duty  to  talk  queruh>usly,  and  to  check  the 
flow,  of  the  girl's  emotions,  which  she  did  much  to 


14    TnE  LOG  SCHOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

excite.  Her  own  life  liad  been  so  circumscribed 
and  liard  tbat  the  day  seemed  to  be  too  briglit  to  be 
speaking  the  truth.  She  peered  into  tlie  sky  for  a 
cloud,  but  there  was  none,  on  this  dazzling  Oregon 
morning.  The  trail  now  opened  for  a  long  way 
before  the  eyes  of  the  travelers.  Far  ahead  gleamed 
the  i)ellucid  waters  of  the  Colmnbia,  or  Oregon. 
Half-way  between  them  and  the  broad,  rolling  river 
a  dark,  tall  figure  appeared. 

"Gretchen?" 

"  What,  mother  ? " 

"Gretchen,  look!  There  goes  the  Yankee 
schoolmaster.  Came  way  out  here  over  the  mount- 
ains to  teach  the  people  of  the  wilderness,  and  all 
for  nothing,  too.  That  shows  that  people  have  souls 
— some  people  have.  Walk  right  along  beside  me, 
proper-like.  You  needn't  ever  tell  any  one  that  I 
ain't  your  true  mother.  If  I  ain't  ashamed  of  you, 
you  needn't  be  ashamed  of  me.  I  wish  that  you 
were  my  own  girl,  now  that  you  have  said  that  you 
love  me  more  than  anybody  else  in  the  world.  That 
remark  kind  o'  touched  me.  I  know  that  I  some- 
times talk  hard,  but  I  mean  well,  and  I  have  to  tell 
you  the  plain  truth  so  as  to  do  my  duty  by  you, 
and  then  I  won't  have  anything  to  reflect  upon. 

"  Just  look   at  him !      Straight  as  an  arrow ! 


ORETCIIEN'S  VIOLIN.  15 

They  say  that  his  folks  are  rich.  Come  out  here 
way  over  the  mountains,  and  is  just  going  to  teacli 
scho(jl  in  a  log  school-house — all  made  of  logs  and 
sods  and  mud-plaster,  adobe  they  call  it — a  graduate 
of  Harvard  College,  too." 

A  long,  dark  object  appeared  in  the  trees  cov- 
ered with  bark  and  moss.  Behind  these  trees  was 
a  waterfall,  over  which  hung  the  crowns  of  pines. 
The  sunlight  sifted  through  the  odorous  canopy, 
and  fell  upon  the  strange,  dark  object  that  lay  across 
the  branching  limbs  of  two  ancient  trees. 

Gretchen  stopped  again. 

"  Mother,  what  is  that  ? " 

"  A  grave — an  Indian  grave." 

The  Indians  bury  their  dead  in  the  trees  out 
here,  or  used  to  do  so.  A  brown  hawk  arose  from 
the  mossy  coffin  and  winged  its  way  wildly  into 
the  sunny  heights  of  the  air.  It  had  made  its 
nest  on  the  covering  of  the  body.  These  jiew 
scenes  were  all  very  strange  to  the  young  Ger- 
man girl. 

The  trail  was  bordered  with  young  ferns ;  wild 
violets  lay  in  beds  of  purple  along  the  running 
streams,  and  the  mountain  phlox  with  its  kindling 
buds  carpeted  the  shelving  ways  under  the  murmur- 
ing pines.     The  woman  and  girl  came  at  last  to  a 


10    THE  LOO  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  TUE  COLUMBIA. 

V  ild,  open  space ;  before  them  rolled  tlie  Oregon, 
beyond  It  ntretched  a  great  treeless  plain,  and  over 
it  towered  a  gigantic  mountain,  in  whose  crown, 
like  a  jewel,  .shone  a  resplendent  glacier. 

Just  before  them,  on  the  bluffs  of  the  river, 
under  three  gigantic  evergreens,  each  of  which  was 
more  than  two  hundred  feet  high,  stood  an  odd 
structure  of  logs  and  sods,  which  the  builders  called 
the  Sod  School-house.  It  was  not  a  sod  school- 
liouse  in  the  sense  in  which  the  term  has  been  aj)- 
plicd  to  more  recent  structures  in  the  treeless  prairie 
districts  of  certain  mid-ocean  Sttites ;  it  was  rudely 
framed  of  pine,  and  was  furnished  with  a  pine  desk 
and  benches. 

Along  the  river  lay  a  ]->latcau  full  of  flowers, 
birds,  and  butterflies,  and  over  the  great  river  and 
flowering  plain  the  clear  air  glimmered.  Like  some 
sun-god's  abode  in  the  shadow  of  ages,  St.  Helens 
still  lifted  her  silver  tents  in  the  far  sky.  Eagles 
and  mountain  birds  wheeled,  shrieking  joyously,  here 
and  there.  Below  the  bluffs  the  silent  salmon-fish- 
ers awaited  their  prey,  and  dow^n  the  river  M'ith  pad- 
dles apeak  drifted  the  bark  canoes  of  Cayuses  and 
Umatillas. 

A  group  of  children  were  gathered  abont  the 
open  door  of  the  new  school-honse,  and  among  them 


•s 

^ 

5 


5 


GIIKTCIIEN'S  VIOLIN.  17 

rose  the  tall  form  of  ^^Farlowc  ^rann,  the  Yankee 
Kchoolinaster. 

lie  had  come  over  the  mouiitaius  8omo  years 
before  in  the  early  exjK'ditions  or«j;anized  and  di- 
rected by  Dr.  ^larcuK  Whitman,  of  the  American 
l>oard  of  Missions.  AVhether  the  misHion  to  the 
Cayuses  and  "NVallu  AVallas,  which  Dr.  AVhitnian 
established  on  the  bend  of  the  Cohnnbia,  was  then 
regarded  as  a  home  or  foreign  field  of  work,  we  can 
not  say.  The  doctor's  .'Solitary  ride  of  fonr  thon- 
sfmd  miles,  in  order  to  save  the  great  Korthwest 
territory  to  the  United  States,  is  one  of  the  most 
poeti(!  and  dramatic  episodes  of  American  history. 
It  has  ])roved  to  be  worth  to  onr  country  more  than 
all  the  money  that  has  been  given  to  missionary 
enterprises.  Shonld  the  Pnget  Sound  cities  ])ec(»me 
the  great  ports  of  Asia,  and  the  ships  of  commerce 
drift  from  Seattle  and  Tacoma  over  the  Japan  cur- 
rent to  the  Flowery  Isles  and  China;  should  the 
lumber,  coal,  minerals,  and  wheat-fields  of  "Washing- 
ton, Oregon,  Montana,  and  Idaho  at  last  compel 
these  cities  to  rival  New  York  and  Boston,  the 
populous  empire  will  owe  to  the  patriotic  mission- 
ary zeal  of  Dr.  AVhitman  a  debt  M'hicli  it  can  only 
pay  in  honor  and  love.  Dr.  "Whitman  was  mur- 
dered by  the  Indians  soon  after  the  settlement  of 


18    TITK  LOO  SCnOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

tho  "Walla  Walla  country  by  the  pioneers  from  the 
Eastern  States. 

Mr.  Mann'H  inspiration  to  hoconu'  i:  missionary 
pioneer  on  tho  Oregon  had  been  derived  from  a 
lioston  schoolmaster  whose  name  also  the  North- 
west should  honor.  An  inspired  soul  with  a  proph- 
et's vision  usually  goes  before  the  great  movements 
of  life;  solitary  men  summon  the  march  of  prog- 
ress, then  decrease  while  others  increase.  Hall  J. 
Kelley  was  a  teacher  of  the  olden  time,  well  known 
in  lioston  almost  a  century  ago.  lie  became  pos- 
sessed with  the  idea  that  Oregon  was  destined  to 
become  a  great  empire.  He  collected  all  possible 
information  about  the  territory,  and  organized  emi- 
gration schemes,  the  first  of  which  started  from  St. 
Louis  in  1828,  and  failed.  He  talked  of  Oregon 
continually.  The  subject  haunted  liim  day  and 
night.  It  was  he  who  inspired  Rev.  Jason  Lee, 
the  pioneer  of  the  Willamette  Valley.  Lee  inter- 
ested Senator  Linn,  of  ]\Iissouri,  in  Oregon,  and 
this  senator,  on  December  11,  1838,  introduced  the 
bill  into  Congress  which  organized  the  Territory. 

Some  of  the  richly  endowed  new  schools  of 
Oregon  would  honor  history  by  a  monumental  rec- 
ognition of  the  name  of  Hall  J.  Kelley,  the  old 
schoolmaster,  whose  dreams  were  of  the  Columbia, 


ORBTCIIEN'S  VIOLIN.  19 

iind  wlio  inspired  some  of  Lis  pupils  to  hccomc  reso- 
lute pioneers,  lioston  wjus  always  a  friend  to  Wash- 
ington and  Oregon.  Where  the  old  eehoolinaster 
now  rests  wo  do  not  know.  J'rohahly  in  a  neg- 
lected grave  amid  the  hriers  and  mosses  of  some 
old  cemetery  on  the  Atlantic  coast. 

When  ]\rarlowc  Miinn  came  to  the  Northwest 
ho  found  the  Indian  tribes  uiupiiet  and  suspicious 
of  tlio  new  settlements.  One  of  the  pioneers  liad 
caused  a  sickness  among  some  thievish  Indians  hy 
putting  emetic  ])oisou  in  watermelons.  The  Indians 
helleved  these  melons  to  have  been  conjured  by  the 
wiiite  doctor,  and  when  other  sicikness  catnc  among 
tliem,  they  attributed  it  to  the  same  cause.  The 
massacre  at  Waiilaptu  and  the  murder  of  Wliitman 
grew  in  part  out  of  these  events. 

Mr.  Mann  settled  near  the  old  Chief  of  the  Cas- 
cades. He  sought  thii  Indian  friendship  of  this 
chief,  and  asked  him  for  his  protection. 

"  People  fullill  the  expectation  of  the  tnist  put 
in  tliem— Indians  as  well  as  children,"  he  used  to 
say.  "A  boy  fulfills  the  ideals  of  his  mother— 
what  the  mother  believes  the  boy  will  be,  that  he 
will  become.  Treat  a  thief  as  though  he  were  hon- 
est, and  he  will  be  honest  with  you.  We  help  peo- 
ple to  be  better  by  behoving  in  what  is  good  in 


20    THE  LOG  SCIIOOI^IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMHIA. 

tlicMn.  I  am  going  to  trust  tho  frieiulHliip  of  tlio 
old  ('liief  «)f  tlie  CaHcaclcs,  and  ho  will  novor  bc- 
tniy  it." 

It  was  Kinniner,  and  there  wiw  to  he  a  great  In- 
dian Putlatch  feartt  under  the  autinnn  moon.  The 
I'otlateh  in  a  fea«t  of  giftH.  It  is  unually  a  peaceful 
gathering  of  friendly  tribes,  with  rude  music  and 
gay  dances ;  hut  it  bodes  war  and  nuissacre  and 
danger  if  it  end  with  the  dance  of  the  evil  spirits, 
or  the  devil  dance,  as  it  has  been  known — a  dance 
which  the  Englisli  Government  has  recently  for- 
bidden among  the  Northwestern  tribes. 

The  Indians  were  demanding  tliat  the  great  fall 
Potlatch  should  end  with  this  ominous  dance  of 
fire  and  besmearings  of  bloo<l.  Tlie  wliito  people 
everywhere  were  disturbed  by  these  reports,  for 
they  feared  wliat  might  be  the  secret  intent  of  this 
wild  revel.  The  settlers  all  regarded  witli  appre- 
hension tho  October  moon. 

Tlie  tall  schoolmaster  watched  tho  approach  of 
Mrs.  Woods  and  Gretchcn  with  a  curious  interest. 
The  coming  of  a  pupil  with  no  books  and  a  violin 
was  something  unexpected.  He  stepped  forward 
with  a  courtly  grace  and  greeted  them  most  politely, 
for  wherever  Marlowe  Mann  might  be,  he  never 
forgot  that  he  was  a  gentlenum. 


OUKTCIIKN'S  VIOLIN.  21 

"Tliirt  ii^  my  gal  what  1  liiivo  broiiglit  to  ho 
cdiicjited/'  8uid  Mrs.  Wootln,  ])rt)U(lly.  "  Thvy 
think  a  groat  deal  of  education  U[)  around  Bos- 
ton  where  I  caino  from.  Where  did  you  eomo 
from  'i  " 

"  From  IJoston." 

"So  I  iiave  been  told — fntm  Harvard  College. 
Can  I  Hpeak  with  you  a  minute  in  private?" 

"  Yes,  madam.     Step  au'de." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  kinder  surprised  that  I  let 
my  gal  there,  (iretehen,  bring  her  violin  with  her; 
but  I  have  a  secret  to  tell  ye.  Gretchen  is  a  kind 
of  a  poet,  makes  rhymes,  she  does ;  makes  J'ool 
rhyme  with  ftc/utol,  und  such  things  as  that.  Now, 
I  don't  take  any  interest  in  sucli  things.  Hut  she 
does  play  the  violin  beautiful.  Learned  of  a  Ger- 
man teacher.  Now,  do  you  want  to  know  why  I 
let  her  bring  her  violin  ?  Well,  I  thought  it  might 
/icij)  you.  You've  got  a  hard  lot  of  scholars  to  deal 
with  out  here,  and  there  are  Injuns  around,  too,  and 
one  never  knows  what  they  may  do. 

"Well,  schoolmaster,  you  never  heard  nothin' 
like  that  violin.  It  isn't  no  evil  spirit  that  is  in 
Gretchen's  violin ;  it's  an  angel.  I  first  noticed  it 
one  day  when  husband  and  I  had  been  havin'  some 
words.    We  have  words  sometimes.    I  have  a  lively 


22    THE  LOG  SCriOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

mind,  and  know  liow  to  use  words  when  I  am  op- 
posed. Well,  one  day  when  husband  and  I  had 
been  havin'  words,  which  we  shouldn't,  seein'  we 
are  Methody,  Gretchen  began  to  cry,  and  went  and 
got  her  violin,  and  began  to  play  just  like  a  bird. 
And  my  high  temper  all  melted  away,  and  my 
mind  went  back  to  the  old  farm  in  New  Eng- 
land, and  I  declare,  schoolmaster,  I  just  threw  my 
apron  over  my  head  and  began  to  cry,  and  I  told 
Gretchen  never  to  play  that  tune  again  when  I  was 
talking  to  husband  for  his  good. 

"Well,  one  day  there  came  a  lot  of  Injuns  to 
the  house  and  demanded  fire-water.  I  am  Methody, 
and  don't  keep  any  such  things  in  the  house.  Hus- 
band is  a  sober,  honest  man.  !Now,  I've  always 
noticed  that  an  Injun  is  a  coward,  and  I  think  the 
best  way  to  get  along  with  Injuns  is  to  appear  not 
to  fear  them.  So  I  ordered  the  stragglers  away, 
when  one  of  them  swung  his  tommyhawk  about 
my  head,  and  the  others  threatened  to  kill  me. 
How  my  heart  did  beat !  Gretchen  began  to  cry ; 
then  she  ran  all  at  once  for  her  violin  and  played 
the  very  same  tune,  and  the  Injuns  just  stood  like 
so  many  dumb  statues  and  listened,  and,  when  the 
tune  was  over,  one  of  them  said  '  Spirits,'  and  they 
all  went  away  like  so  many  children. 


GRETCIIEN'S  VIOLIN.  23 

"Now,  I  thought  you  would  like  to  hear  my 
gal  play  between  schools,  and,  if  ever  you  should 
get  into  any  trouble  with  your  scholars  or  Injuns 
or  anybody,  just  call  upon  Gretchen,  and  she  will 
play  that  tune  on  the  violin." 

"  What  wonderful  tune  is  it,  madam  ? " 

"I  don't  know.  I  don't  know  one  tune  from 
another,  though  I  do  sing  the  old  Methody  hymns 
that  I  learned  in  Lynn  when  I  am  about  my  work. 
I  don't  know  whether  she  knows  or  not.  She 
learned  it  of  a  German." 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  let  her  bring  the  instru- 
ment. I  once  plaved  the  violin  mvself  in  the 
orchestra  of  the  Boston  Handel  and  Haydn  So- 
ciety." 

"  Did  you  ?  Then  you  like  it.  I  have  a  word 
or  two  more  to  say  about  Gretchen,  She's  a  good 
gal,  and  shows  her  bringing  up.  Teach  her  reading, 
writing,  and  figures.  You  needn't  teach  her  no 
grammar.  I  could  always  talk  without  any  gram- 
mar, in  the  natural  way.  I  was  a  bound-girl,  and 
never  had  much  education.  I  have  had  my  ups 
and  downs  in  life,  like  all  the  rest  of  the  world. 
You  will  do  the  best  you  can  for  Gretchen,  won't 
you?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear  madam,  and  for  every  one.     I 


24    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

try  to  make  every  one  true  to  the  best  tliat  is  in 
them.  I  am  glad  to  have  Gretclieii  for  a  scholar. 
I  will  speak  to  her  by  and  by." 

How  strange  w^as  the  scene  to  Gretchen !  She 
remembered  the  winding  Ilhine,  with  its  green 
hills  and  terraced  vineyards  and  broken  -  walled 
castles ;  Basel  and  the  singing  of  the  student  clubs 
in  the  gardens  on  summer  eveiJngs ;  the  mountain- 
like church  at  Strasburg ;  and  the  old  streets  of  May- 
cnce.  She  recalled  the  legends  and  music  of  the 
river  of  song — a  river  that  she  had  once  thought 
to  be  the  most  beautiful  on  earth.  But  what  were 
the  hills  of  the  Bhine  to  the  scenery  that  pierced 
the  blue  sky  around  her,  and  how  light  seemed 
the  river  itself  to  the  majestic  flow  of  the  Co- 
lumbia !  Yet  the  home-land  haunted  her.  "Would 
she  go  back  again  ?  IIow  would  her  real  parents 
have  felt  had  they  known  that  she  would  have 
found  a  home  here  in  the  wilderness  ?  "Why  had 
Providence  led  her  steps  here  ?  Her  mother  had 
been  a  pious  Lutheran.  Had  she  been  led  here 
to  help  in  some  future  mission  to  the  Indian 
race  ? 

"  Dreaming  ? "  said  Mrs.  Woods.  "  AVell,  I  sup- 
pose it  can't  be  helped.  If  a  body  has  the  misfor- 
tune to  be  kiting  off  to  the  clouds,  going  up  like 


GRETCriEN'S  VIOLIN.  25 

an  eagle  and  coming  down  like  a  goose,  it  can't  be 
liolpcd.  There  are  a  great  many  tilings  that  can't 
ht'  helped  in  this  world,  and  all  we  can  do  is  to 
make  the  best  of  them.  Some  people  were  born  to 
live  in  the  skies,  and  it  makes  it  hard  for  those  who 
have  to  try  to  live  with  them.  Job  suffered  some 
things,  bnt — I  won't  scold  out  here — I  have  my 
trials ;  but  it  may  be  they  are  all  for  the  best,  as 
the  Scripture  says." 

These  forbearing  remarks  were  not  wholly 
meant  for  Gretchen's  reproval.  Mrs.  Wood^  liked 
to  have  the  world  know  that  she  had  her  trials,  and 
she  was  pleased  to  iind  so  many  ears  on  this  bright 
morning  open  to  her  experiences. 

She  liked  to  say  to  Gretchen  things  that  were 
meant  for  other  ears ;  there  was  novelty  in  the  in- 
direction. She  also  was  accustomed  to  quote  freely 
from  the  Scriptures  and  from  the  Methodist  hynm- 
book,  which  was  almost  her  only  accomplishment. 
She  had  led  a  simple,  hard-working  life  in  her  girl- 
liood ;  had  become  a  follower  of  Jason  Lee  during 
one  of  the  old-time  revivals  of  religion ;  had  heard 
of  the  ]\rethodist  emigration  to  Oregon,  and  wished 
to  follow  it.  She  hardly  knew  why.  Though 
rough  in  speech  and  somewhat  peculiar,  she  was  a 
kind-hearted  and  an  honest  woman,  and  very  in- 


20    THE  LOG  SCnOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

dustriuus  and  resolute.  Mr.  Lee  saw  in  her  the 
spirit  of  a  pioneer,  and  advised  her  to  join  liis  col- 
ony. She  married  Mr.  Woods,  went  to  the  Dalles 
of  the  Columbia,  and  afterward  to  her  present 
home  upon  a  donation  claim. 


CIIArTER  II. 

THE   CHIEF   OF  THE   CASCADES. 

Marlowe  Mann  was  a  graduate  of  Harvard  in 
the  classic  period  of  tlie  college.  lie  liad  many 
scholarly  gifts,  and  as  many  noble  qualities  of  soul 
as  mental  endowments.  He  was  used  to  the  ora- 
tory of  Henry  Ware  and  young  Edward  Evei-ctt, 
and  had  known  Charles  Sumner  and  Wendell  Phil- 
lips at  college,  when  the  Greek  mind  and  models 
led  the  young  student  in  his  fine  development,  and 
made  him  a  Pericles  in  his  dreams. 

But  the  young  student  of  this  heroic  training, 
no  matter  how  well  conditioned  his  family,  usually 
turned  from  his  graduation  to  some  especial  mission 
in  life.  "  I  must  put  myself  into  a  cause,"  said 
young  Wendell  Phillips.  Charles  Sumner  espoused 
the  struggle  of  the  negro  for  freedom,  and  said  : 
"  To  this  cause  do  I  offer  all  I  have."  Marlowe 
Mann  was  a  member  of  the  historic  Old  South 
Churchy  like   Phillif>s   in  his  early  years.      There 


28    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUxMBIA. 

was  an  eiitliusiasm  for  missions  in  the  churclius  of 
Boston  then,  and  he  began  to  dream  of  Oregon 
and  the  mysterious  empire  of  the  great  Northwest, 
as  pictured  by  the  old  selioohnaster,  Kelley  ;  just 
at  this  time  came  Dr.  Whitnum  to  the  East,  half 
frozen  from  his  long  ride,  and  asked  to  lead  au 
emigration  to  Walla  Walla,  to  save  the  Northern 
empire  to  the  territory  of  the  States.  He  heard 
the  doctor's  thrilling  story  of  how  he  had  unfurled 
the  flag  over  the  open  Bible  on  the  crags  that 
looked  down  on  the  valleys  of  the  Oregon,  and  his 
resolution  was  made.  He  did  not  follow  Dr.  Whit- 
man on  the  first  expedition  of  colonists,  but  joined 
him  a  year  or  two  afterward.  He  built  him  a  log- 
cabin  on  the  Columbia,  and  gave  his  whole  soul  to 
teaching,  missionary  work  among  the  Indians,  and 
to  bringing  emigrants  from  the  East. 

The  country  thrilled  him — its  magnificent  scen- 
ery, the  grandeur  of  the  Columbia,  the  vastness  of 
the  territory,  and  the  fertility  of  the  soil.  Here 
were  mountains  grander  than  OljTiipus,  and  harbors 
and  water-courses  as  wonderful  as  the  ^o-ean.  He 
was  almost  afraid  to  map  the  truth  in  his  extensive 
correspondence  with  the  East,  lest  it  should  seem  so 
incredible  as  to  defeat  his  purpose. 

When  the  log  school-house  was  building,  Mr. 


^ 


THE  CHIEF  OP  THK  CASCADES.  29 

Mann  Imd  gone  to  the  old  Chief  of  tlio  Ciisctules 
and  had  invited  him  to  send  his  Indian  hoy  to  the 
school,  lie  had  shown  him  what  an  advantage  it 
would  be  to  the  young  chief  to  understand  more 
thoroughly  Chinook  and  English,  lie  was  wise 
and  j)olitic  in  the  matter  as  well  as  large-hearted, 
for  he  felt  that  the  school  might  need  the  friendli- 
ness of  the  old  chief,  and  in  no  way  could  it  be 
better  secured. 

"  The  world  treats  you  as  you  treat  the  world," 
he  said ;  "•  and  what  you  are  to  the  world,  the  world 
is  to  you.  Tell  me  only  what  kind  of  a  neighbor- 
hood you  come  from,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  kind 
of  a  neighborhood  you  are  going  to  ;  we  all  see  the 
world  in  ourselves.  I  will  educate  the  boy,  and  his 
father  will  protect  the  school.  The  Indian  heart  is 
hot  and  revengeful,  but  it  is  honest  and  true.  I 
intend  to  be  honest  with  the  Indians  in  all  things, 
and  if  there  should  occur  a  dance  of  the  evil  spirits 
at  the  Potlatch,  no  harm  will  ever  come  to  the  log 
school -house;  and  I  do  not  believe  that  such  a 
dance  with  evil  intent  to  the  settlers  will  ever  take 
place.     Human  nature  is  all  one  book  everywhere." 

As  he  stood  there  that  morning,  with  uncovered 
head,  an  unexpected  event  happened.  The  children 
suddenly  said : 


30   TIIR  LOO  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA 

"  Look  1 "  and  "  Umatilla  ! " 

Out  of  tlio  forcHt  wuno  an  aged  Indian,  of  gi- 
gantic Ktuturu — Umatilla,  one  of  the  chiefs  of  tlie 
Ca.s(^ade.s ;  and  bchside  him  walked  his  only  son,  tlio 
IJght  of  the  Eagle's  Tlunie,  or,  as  lie  had  been 
named  by  the  English,  lien  jamin. 

Umatilla,  like  Massasoit,  of  tlie  early  colonial 
liist(M*y  of  IMymouth,  was  a  remarkable  person. 
Surrounded  by  warlike  tribes,  lie  liad  been  a  man 
of  peace.  He  was  a  lover  of  Nature,  and  every 
shining  cloud  to  Ids  eye  was  a  chariot.  He  per- 
soniiied  everything,  like  the  ancient  (ireeks.  He 
talked  in  ])()etic  figures;  to  him  the  sky  was  alive, 
every  event  liad  a  soul,  and  his  mind  had  dwelt 
npon  the  great  truths  of  Nature  until  he  had  be- 
come more  of  a  philosoj)her  than  a  ruler. 

He  liad  been  the  father  of  a  large  family,  but 
six  of  his  sons  had  died  of  the  plagne,  or  rather  of 
the  treatment  which  tlie  medicine-men  liad  nsed  in 
the  disease,  which  was  to  sweat  the  victims  in  hot 
earthen  ovens,  and  then  plunge  them  into  the  Co- 
lumbia. 

His  whole  heart  in  his  old  age  was  fixed  upon 
his  only  son,  Benjamin.  The  two  were  seldom 
separated.  To  make  the  boy  happy  was  the  end  of 
the  old  chiefs  life. 


TIIK  ClIIKF  OF  TIIK  CASCADES.  81 

Tlic  two  ji^jproiiclit'd  tlio  courtly  schoolmaster. 

*' White  master,"  said  the  old  chief,  "I  have 
l)roii«,dit  to  you  the  Lij^ht  (»f  the  Eaj^le's  Plume, 
lie  is  my  heart,  and  will  he  the  lieart  of  my  [)eo|)le 
when  mv  suns  are  all  jjassed  over  and  my  stars 
gone  out.  AVill  you  tea<'h  him  to  he  a  good  chiefs 
I  want  him  to  know  English,  and  how  to  worship 
the  ^[aster  of  Life.  Will  you  take  him  to  your 
school  lodge  ?" 

The  tall  master  bowed  low,  and  took  the  Indian 
boy  by  the  hand. 

The  boy  was  a  princely  youth.  His  figure 
would  have  held  the  eye  of  a  scul[)tor  in  long  ad- 
miration. The  chisel  of  a  Phidias  could  hardly 
have  exceeded  such  a  form.  His  features  were 
like  the  Koman,  his  eye  quick  and  lustnnis,  and 
his  lips  noble  and  kindly,  lie  wore  a  blanket  over 
his  shoulders,  gathered  in  a  long  sash,  ornamented 
with  shells,  about  bis  loins,  and  a  crest  of  eagle 
plumes  and  shells  on  his  head  indicated  his  rank 
and  dignity.  He  could  speak  some  words  of  Chi- 
nook, and  English  imperfectly.  He  had  mingled 
much  with  the  officers  of  the  Hudson  I>ay  Com- 
pany, and  so  Imd  learned  many  of  the  customs  of 
civilization. 

"  I  am  honored,"  said  the  courtly,  tall  school- 


32    THE  LOO  SCIIOOL-nOUSE  ON  TIIK  COLUMniA. 

muHter,  "  in  Imviii'^  kucIi  u  youth  for  my  [ni[n\. 
(Jliiof  of  tlui  IJiimtilluH,  I  tlumk  tlufc.  All  tluit  in 
good  in  1110  will  I  give  to  your  noble  boy.  I  live 
with  my  eye  upon  the  future;  the  work  of  my  life 
irt  to  lend  j)eoi)le  to  follow  their  better  natures  and 
to  bo  true  to  their  best  selves.  There  is  a  good 
angel  in  all  men  here" — he  put  his  luind  on  liis 
heart — "  it  leads  men  away  from  evil ;  it  seeks  the 
way  of  life  ;  its  end  is  yonder  with  the  Inlinite. 
Chief  of  the  ITmatillas,  I  will  try  to  tcacli  the 
young  man  to  follow  it.     Do  you  understand  ? " 

Tho  aged  chief  bowed.  lie  euught  the  meaning 
of  tho  thouglit,  if  not  of  the  rather  formal  words. 
lie  comprehended  the  idea  that  the  tall  school- 
nuister  believed  goodness  to  be  immortal.  Tho 
regions  of  the  Cascades  w'cre  indeed  beautiful  with 
their  ancient  forests  and  gleaming  mountain  walls, 
but  he  had  been  taught  to  believe  that  tho  great 
Master  of  Life  had  provided  eternal  scenes  that 
transcended  these  for  tlioso  who  were  worthy  to 
receive  them. 

An  unexpected  turn  camo  to  this  stately  and 
pacific  interview\  Mrs.  Woods  was  piqued  at  tho 
deference  that  the  tall  schoolmaster  had  shown  to 
tho  chief  and  his  son.  She  walked  about  restlessly, 
cut  a  rod  from  one  of  the  trees  with  a  large  knife 


TIIK  C'HIKF  OF  TIIK  CASCADRS.  83 

which  hIio  always  carried  witli  her,  and  at  lust  called 
the  iiuiHter  aside  a^niiii. 

"Say,  mister,  hero.  You  ain't  g<>in^  t«>  tako 
that  y(»un^  Injun  into  your  school,  arc  you? 
There'll  he  trouhle,  now,  if  you  do.  Know  Injuns 
— you  don't.  You  are  youn^,  hut  'tain't  hest  for 
you  to  eat  all  your  apples  green.  I've  always  heen 
very  particular  ahout  the  company  I  keep,  if  T  was 
born  poor  and  have  had  to  work  hard,  and  never 
studied  no  foreign  languages.     I  warn  you!" 

She  raised  her  voice,  and  I*enjaniin  heard  what 
she  had  said.  He  suspected  her  ill-will  toward  him 
from  lier  manner,  hut  lie  com2)rehendtd  the  mean- 
ing of  her  last  words. 

He  at  first  looked  puzzled  and  grieved,  then 
suddenly  liis  thin  14ps  were  pressed  together;  the 
passion  of  anger  was  possessing  him,  soon  to  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  purpose  of  revenge. 

Mrs.  Woods  saw  that  she  had  gone  too  far  in 
•  the  matter,  and  that  her  spirit  and  meaning  had 
been  discovered  by  the  son  of  the  chief.  TI  e  dan- 
ger to  which  she  had  exposed  herself  mrde  her 
nervous.  But  she  began  to  act  on  her  old  princi[)lo 
never  to  show  fear  in  the  presence  of  an  Indian. 

"  Here,  mister,  I  must  go  now,"  she  said,  in  a 
loud   voice.      "Take    this   rod,    and    govern    your 


34    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Kcliool  like  a  man.  If  I  were  a  teacher,  I'd  make 
my  scholars  smart  in  more  "svays  than  one."  She 
hold  out  the  rod  to  the  master. 

There  was  a  movement  in  tlie  air  like  a  flush. 
Benjamin,  with  noiseless  feet,  had  sli^iped  up  he- 
liind  her.  He  had  conceived  the  idea  that  the  offer 
of  the  rod  somehow  meant  enmity  to  him.  He 
seized  the  rod  from  behind  the  woman,  and,  sweep- 
ing it  through  the  air,  with  kindled  eye  and  glow- 
ing cheeks,  wheeled  before  the  master. 

"  Boston  tilicum,  don't  you  dare !  " 

"Boston  tilicum"  was  the  Chinook  for  an 
American,  and  the  Chinook  or  trade  language  had 
become  common  to  all  the  tribes  on  the  Columbia. 
The  early  American  traders  on  the  Northern  Pa- 
cific coast  were  from  Boston, 

He  raised  the  rod  aloft  defiantly  like  a  young 
champion,  and  presented  a  heroic  figure,  which 
excited  the  tremulous  admiration  and  wonder  of 
the  little  group.  He  then  pointed  it  toward  Mrs. 
Woods,  and  said  contemptuously  in  Chinook  : 

"  Cloochman !  "  (woman). 

The  scene  changed  to  the  comical.     Mrs.  "Woods  ' 
snatched  off  her  broad  sun-bonnet,  revealing  her 
gray  hair,  and  assumed  an  apjiearance  of  defiance, 
though  her  heart  was  really  trembling  with  fear. 


THE  CHIEF  OF  THE  CASCADES,  85 

"  I  ain't  afraid  of  no  Injuns,"  she  said,  "  and  I 
don't  take  any  impudence  from  anybody.  I've  had 
to  light  the  wliole  world  all  my  life,  and  I've  always 
conquered.     There — now — there !  " 

She  whipped  the  rod  out  of  the  young  Indian's 
hand. 

Benjamin's  eyes  blazed. 

"  Closche  nanitch  "  (look  out),  he  said.  "  I  am 
an  Umatilla.  Siwash  (Indian)  will  remember. 
There  are  hawks  in  the  sky." 

"Kamooks"  (dog),  returned  Mrs.  Woods,  defi- 
antly.    "  Kamooks." 

She  would  have  said  "cultus"  had  she  dared. 
"  Cultus "  is  the  most  insulting  word  that  can  be 
applied  to  an  Indian,  and,  when  it  is  used,  it  invites 
the  most  deadly  revenge.  The  word  had  come  to 
her  lips,  but  she  had  not  the  courage  to  invoke  the 
consequences  of  such  a  taunt. 

But  the  young  Indian  further  excited  her.  lie 
shook  the  rod  at  her,  and  her  passion  mastered  her 
prudence.  She  struggled  with  herself,  and  was 
silent  for  a  few  moments.  But,  suddenly  catching 
the  young  Indian's  eye,  which  had  in  it  a  savage 
triumph,  she  exclaimed : 

"  Cultus  Umatilla—" 

The  old  chief  stepped  forward  and  lifted  his  hands. 

8 


36    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"Pil-pil"  (blood),  said  Benjamin.  "There  are 
liawks  in  the  air — " 

"  Be  still ! "  said  the  chief. 

" — they  whet  their  beaks,"  continued  Benjamin. 
"  Potlatch  I " 

The  whole  company  were  filled  with  excitement 
or  terror.  Gretchen  trembled,  and  began  to  cry. 
Three  Indians  were  seen  coming  down  the  trail, 
and  the  sight  seemed  to  fill  Benjamin  with  a  mys- 
terious delight.  Mrs.  "Woods  saw  them  with  secret 
fear,  and  the  master  with  apprehension.  Several 
of  the  children  began  to  cry,  and  there  was  a  look 
of  pain,  terror,  or  distress  on  all  the  faces. 

Suddenly  Gretchen  stepped  apart  from  the 
group  and  lifted  to  her  shoulder  her  violin. 

A  hunting  strain  rose  on  the  bright  morning 
air.     It  seemed  like  the  flight  of  a  singing  bird. 

The  chief's  arms  dropped.  The  music  arose  like 
a  sweet  memory  of  all  that  is  good  and  beautiful. 

The  three  Indians  stopped  to  listen.  The  music 
became  more  sweet  and  entrancing.  The  anger 
went  out  of  Benjamin's  face,  and  there  came  better 
fee.  'ngs  into  his  soul. 

The  music  breathed  of  the  Ehine,  of  \dneyard8 
and  festivals,  but  he  understood  it  not ;  to  him  it 
recalled  tlie  mysterious  legends  of  the  Umatillas, 


TnE  CUIEF  OF  THE  CASCADES.      87 

the  mysteries  of  life,  and  the  glory  of  the  heroes 
who  slept  on  the  island  of  the  dead  or  amid  the 
sweetly  sighing  branches  of  the  trees.  Tlie  air 
was  the  Traimierei. 

When  the  music  ceased  there  w^as  a  long  silence. 
In  it  Mrs.  Woods  turned  away  slowly,  with  a  word 
of  advice  to  Gretchen  that  under  other  circiun- 
stances  would  have  appeared  amusing : 

"Behave  yourself  like  a  lady,"  she  said,  "and 
remember  your  bringing  up.     Good-morning  to  ye 

all." 

The  little  group  watched  her  as  she  moved 
safely  away.  A  little  black  bear  crossed  her  path 
as  she  was  entering  the  wood,  and  stopped  on  the 
way.  But  her  steps  were  growing  rapid,  and,  as 
she  did  not  seem  to  regard  him  as  a  matter  of  any 
consequence,  he  turned  and  ran.  The  company 
smiled,  and  so  the  peril  of  the  morning  seemed  to 
pass  away. 

The  scene  would  have  been  comical  but  for  the 
painful  look  in  the  kindly  face  of  the  old  Chief  of 
the  Cascades.  lie  had  come  toward  the  school- 
house  with  high  hopes,  and  what  had  happened 
caused  him  pain.  The  word  "  Potlatch,"  spoken 
by  the  Indian  boy,  liad  caused  his  brow  to  cloud 
and  his  face  to  turn  dark. 


38    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-riOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  We  will  all  go  into  the  house,"  said  the  mas- 
ter. "  Umatilla,  will  you  not  honor  us  with  a  visit 
this  morning?" 

"  No— me  come  this  afternoon  for  the  boy ;  me 
wait  for  him  outside.  Boston  tilicuni,  let  me  speak 
to  you  a  little.     I  am  a  father." 

"  Yes,  and  a  good  father." 

"  I  am  a  father — you  no  understand — Boston 
tilicum — father.  I  want  you  to  teach  him  like  a 
father — not  you  understand  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  understand." 

"  Father — teacher — you,  Boston  tilicum." 

"Yes,  I  understand,  and  I  will  be  a  father 
teacher  to  your  Benjamin." 

"  I  die  some  day.     You  understand  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  understand." 

"You  understand,  Boston  tilicum,  you  under- 
stand. "Wliat  I  want  my  boy  to  become  that  I  am 
for  my  boy.     That  you  be." 

"  Yes,  Umatilla,  I  believe  an  Indian's  word 
— you  may  trust  mine.  I  will  be  to  your  boy 
what  you  may  have  him  become.  The  Indian  is 
true  to  his  friends.  I  believe  in  you.  I  will  be 
true." 

The  old  chief  drew  his  blanket  round  him 
proudly. 


THE  CHIEF  OF  THE  CASCADES.  89 

"  Boston  tiliciiin,"  said  lie,  "  If  ever  tlie  day  of 
trouble  comes,  I  will  protect  you  and  the  log 
school-house.  You  may  trust  my  word.  Indian 
speak  true.-' 

The  tall  schoolmaster  bowed. 

"  Nika  atte  cepa "  (I  like  you  much),  said  the 
chief.  "  Totlatch  shall  no  harm  you.  Klahyam 
klahhye — am  !  "  (Good-by). 

Mrs.  Woods   hurried   homeward    and   tried   to 

calm  her  excited  mind  by  singing  a  very  heroic  old 

hymn  : 

"  Come  on,  my  partners  In  distress, 
My  comnules  in  the  wilderness. 
Who  still  your  bodies  feel." 

The  blue  skies  gleamed  before  her,  and  over- 
head wheeled  a  golden  eagle.  To  lier  it  was  an 
emblem,  a  good  omen,  and  lier  spirit  became  quiet 
and  happy  amid  all  the  contradictions  of  her  rough 
life.  She  sat  down  at  last  on  the  log  before  her 
door,  with  the  somewhat  strange  remark  : 

"  I  do  hate  Injims ;  nevertheless — " 

Mrs.  "Woods  wafj  accustomed  to  correct  the 
wrong  tendencies  of  her  heart  and  tongue  by  this 
word  "  nevertheless,"  which  she  used  as  an  incom- 
plete sentence.  This  "  nevertheless  "  seemed  to  ex- 
press her  better  self  ;  to  correct  the  rude  tendencies 


40    THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

of  her  nature.  Had  she  heen  educated  in  her  oarly 
days,  this  tendency  to  self-correction  would  liave 
made  her  an  ideal  woman,  but  she  owed  nearly  all 
lier  intellectual  training  to  the  sermons  of  the  Kev. 
Jason  Lee,  which  she  had  heard  in  some  obscure 
corner  of  a  room,  or  in  Methodist  chapel,  or  under 
the  trees. 

Her  early  ex])erience  with  the  Indians  had  not 
made  her  a  friend  to  the  native  races,  notwithstand- 
ing the  missionary  labors  of  the  Kev.  Jason  Lee. 
The  first  Indian  that  made  her  a  visit  on  the  dona- 
tion claim  did  not  leave  a  favorable  impression  on 
her  mind. 

This  Indian  had  come  to  her  door  while  she 
was  engaged  in  the  very  hard  work  of  sawing 
wood.  He  had  never  seen  a  saw  before,  and,  as  it 
seemed  to  him  to  be  a  part  of  the  woman  lierself, 
he  approached  her  with  awe  and  wonder.  That  the 
saw  should  eat  through  the  wood  appeared  to  him 
a  veritable  miracle. 

Mrs.  Woods,  unaware  of  her  visitor,  paused  to 
take  breath,  looked  up,  beheld  the  tall  form  with 
staring  eyes,  and  started  back. 

"  Medicine-woman — conjure  ! "  said  the  Indian, 
in  Chinook. 

Mrs.  Woods  was  filled  with  terror,  but  a  mo- 


TOE  CniEP  OP  THE  CASCADES.  41 

ment's  thought  recalled  her  resolution.  She  lifted 
her  hand,  and,  ])ointing  to  the  saw  in  the  wood,  she 
said,  with  a  coinnuinding  tone  : 

"  Saw ! " 

The  Indian  obeyed  awkwardly,  and  wondering 
at  the  progress  of  the  teeth  of  the  saw  through  the 
wood.  It  was  a  hot  day ;  the  poor  Indian  soon 
became  tired,  and  stoi)ped  work  with  a  beating 
heart  and  bursting  veins. 

"  Saw — saw ! "  said  Mrs.  "Woods,  with  a  sweep 
of  her  hands,  as  though  some  mysterious  fate  de- 
pended n])on  the  order. 

The  saw  went  very  hard  now,  for  he  did  not 
know  how  to  use  it,  and  the  wood  was  hard,  and 
the  Indian's  only  thought  seemed  to  be  how  to 
escape.  Mrs.  Woods  held  him  in  her  power  by  a 
kind  of  mental  magnetism,  like  that  which  Queen 
Margaret  exercised  over  the  robber. 

"  "Water  ! "  at  last  gasped  the  Indian. 

"  Saw — saw  ! "  said  Mrs.  "Woods  ;  then  turned 
away  to  bring  him  water. 

"Wlien  she  looked  around  again,  an  unexpected 
sight  met  her  eyes.  The  Indian  was  flying  away, 
taking  the  saw  with  him.  She  never  beheld  either 
again,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  any  Indian 
appeared    at   the    clearing   after    this    odd    event, 


42    THE  LOO  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

tliough  Mrs.  Woods  ultimately  had  many  advent- 
ures among  the  wandering  Siwashes. 

A  saw  was  no  connnon  loss  in  these  times  of 
but  few  mechanical  implements  in  Oregon,  and 
Mrs.  Woods  did  not  soon  forgive  the  Indian  for 
taking  away  what  he  probably  regarded  as  an  in- 
strument of  torture. 

"  I  do  hate  Injuns  ! "  she  would  often  say ;  but 
quite  likely  would  soon  after  be  heard  singing  one 
of  the  hymns  of  the  missionaries  at  the  Dalles  : 

"  O'er  Columbia's  wide-spread  forests 
Haste,  ye  heralds  of  the  Lamb ; 
Teach  the  red  man,  wildly  roaming, 
Faith  in  Imraanuel's  name," 

which,  if  poor  poetry,  was  very  inspiring. 


CHAPTER  III. 

BOSTON    TILICUM. 

Marlowe  Mann — "  Boston  tilicum,"  as  tlie  Si- 
waslies  called  all  the  iiiissionaries,  teachers,  and 
traders  from  the  East — sat  down  upon  a  bench  of 
split  log  and  leaned  upon  his  desk,  which  consisted 
of  two  split  logs  in  a  rongli  frame.  A  curious 
school  confronted  him.  His  pupils  numbered  fif- 
teen, representing  Germany,  England,  Sweden,  New 
England,  and  the  Indian  race. 

"  The  world  will  some  day  come  to  the  Yankee 
schoolmaster,"  he  used  to  say  to  the  bowery  halls 
of  old  Cambridge ;  and  this  prophecy,  whicli  had 
come  to  him  on  the  banks  of  the  Charles,  seemed 
indeed  to  be  beginning  to  be  fulfilled  on  the  Co- 
lumbia. 

He  opened  the  school  in  the  same  serene  and 
scholarly  manner  as  he  would  have  done  in  a  school 
in  Cambridge. 

"  He  is  not  a  true  gentleman  who  is  not  one 


44    THE  LOO  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

iiiider  all  coiulitions  and  circumstances,"  was  one 
of  his  views  of  a  well-clothed  character ;  and  this 
nioniinii^  he  addressed  the  school  with  the  courtesy 
of  an  old  college  professor. 

"I  have  como  here,"  he  said,  "with  but  one 
purpose,  and  that  is  to  try  to  teach  you  things 
which  will  do  you  the  most  good  in  life.  That  is 
always  the  best  which  will  do  the  most  good ;  all 
else  is  inferior.  I  shall  first  teacli  you  to  obey  your 
sense  of  right  in  all  tilings.  This  is  the  first  prin- 
ciple of  a  true  education.  You  will  always  know 
the  way  of  life  if  you  have  this  principle  for  your 
guide. 

"Conscience  is  the  first  education.  A  man's 
spiritual  nature  is  his  highest  nature,  and  his  spir- 
itual concerns  transcend  all  others.  If  a  man  is 
spiritually  right,  he  is  the  master  of  all  things.  I 
would  impress  these  truths  on  your  minds,  and 
teacli  them  at  the  beginning.  I  have  become  will- 
ing to  be  poor,  and  to  walk  life's  ways  alone.  The 
})ilot  of  the  Argo  never  returned  from  Colchis,  but 
the  Argo  itself  returned  with  the  Golden  Fleece. 
It  may  be  so  with  my  work ;  if  so,  I  wnll  be  con- 
tent. I  have  selected  for  our  Scripture  lesson  the 
'  incorruptible  seed.' " 

He  rose  and  6]3oke  like  one  before  an  august 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  45 

ft8soml)ly;  and  so  it  was  to  liiin,  with  liis  views  of 
tlio  I'uturo  of  the  j^reat  empire  of  the  Northwest. 
A  part  of  the  pupils  could  not  comprehend  all  that 
ho  said  any  more  than  they  had  understood  the 
allusion  to  the  pilot  of  the  Argo ;  hut  his  manner 
was  so  gracious,  so  earnest,  so  ins[)ired,  that  they 
all  felt  tlie  spirit  of  it,  and  some  had  come  to  re- 
gard themselves  as  the  students  of  some  greai:  des- 
tiny. 

"  Older  domes  than  the  pyramids  are  looking 
down  upon  you,"  he  said,  "  and  you  are  horn  to  a 
higher  destiny  than  were  ever  the  children  of  the 
Pharaohs." 

With  the  exception  of  Grctchcn,  not  one  of  the 
pupils  fully  understood  the  picturesque  allusion. 
Like  the  reference  to  the  pilot  of  the  Argo,  it  was 
poetic  mystery  to  them ;  and  yet  it  filled  them  witli 
a  noble  curiosity  to  know  much  and  a  desire  to 
study  hard,  and  to  live  hopefully  and  worthily. 
Like  the  outline  of  some  unknown  mountain  range, 
it  allured  them  to  higher  outlooks  and  wider  dis- 
tances. 

"  He  talked  to  us  so  grandly,"  said  Gretchen  to 
Mrs.  Woods  one  evening,  "  that  I  did  not  know 
half  that  he  was  saying ;  but  it  made  me  feel  that 
I  might  be  somebody,  and  I  do  intend  to  be.     It 


40    THE  LOO  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUAIBLV. 

is  a  ^(K)(l  thing  to  luivc  a  teaclier  witli  great  ex- 
j)ectatioiiH." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Woods,  "  wlien  tlicrc  is  so 
little  to  expect.  IVojde  don't  take  a  lot  (»f  nothing 
and  make  a  heap  of  Honiething  in  thiH  world.  It  is 
all  like  a  lot  of  feathers  thrown  againist  the  wind. 
Neverthelem  it  makes  one  happier  to  have  pros- 
jiccts,  if  they  are  far  away.  I  used  to ;  hut  tliey 
never  came  to  nothing,  unless  it  was  to  bring  me 
way  out  here." 

The  log  school-house  was  a  curious  place.  The 
cliildrcn's  benches  consisted  of  sj)lit  logs  on  pegs, 
without  backs.  The  sides  of  the  building  were 
logs  and  sods,  and  the  roof  was  constructed  of  logs 
and  pine  boughs.  All  of  the  children  were  bare- 
footed, and  several  had  but  poor  and  scanty  clothing. 
Yet  the  very  simplicity  of  the  place  had  a  charm. 

Benjamin  sat  alone,  apart  from  the  rest.  It 
was  plain  to  be  seen  that  he  was  brooding  over  the 
painful  event  of  the  morning.  Gretchen  had  grown 
cheerful  again,  but  the  bitter  expression  on  the 
young  Indian's  face  seemed  to  deepen  in  intensity. 
Mr.  Mann  saw  it.  To  quiet  his  agitation,  he  began 
his  teaching  by  going  to  him  and  sitting  down 
beside  him  on  the  rude  bench  and  opening  to  him 
the  primer. 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  47 

"You  underfituiul  Kn«^lisli  T'  wii<l  Mr.  ^[111111. 

"A  little.     lean  talk  Chin.M.k." 

In  the  Chinook  vocabulary,  which  was  originally 
tlio  trade  language  of  all  the  tribes  employed  by  the 
Jludriou  Bay  Company  in  ctillecting  furs,  most  of 
the  words  resemble  in  sound  the  objects  they  repre- 
sent. For  example,  a  wagon  in  Chinook  is  chick- 
chick,  a  clock  is  ding-ding,  a  crow  is  kaw-kaw,  a 
duck,  <|uack-<iuack,  a  laugh,  tee-liee ;  the  heart  is 
tum-tum,  and  a  talk  or  speech  or  sermon,  wah- 
wali.  The  language  was  of  English  invention  ;  it 
took  its  name  from  the  Chinook  tribes,  and  bo- 
came  connuon  in  the  Northwest.  Nearly  all  of 
the  old  English  and  American  traders  in  the  North- 
west learned  to  talk  Chinook,  and  to  teach  Chinook 
was  one  of  the  purposes  of  the  school. 

"Can  you  tell  me  what  that  is?"  asked  Mr. 
Mann,  pointing  to  the  letter  A  in  the  primer. 

"  Fox-trap." 

"  No  ;  that  is  the  letter  A." 

"  How  do  you  know  ? " 

Our  digger  of  Greek  roots  from  Cambridge  was 
puzzled.  He  could  not  repeat  the  story  of  Cadmus 
to  this  druid  of  the  forest  or  make  a  learned  talk 
on  arbitrary  signs.  lie  answered  happily,  however, 
"  Wise  men  said  so." 


48    TUE  LOG  SCnOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  Me  iinderstand." 

"  Tliat  is  tlie  letter  B." 

"Yes,  aha!  Boston  tilicuin,  you  let  her  be. 
01(1  woman  no  good  ;  me  punish  her.  Knock-sheet 
— stick  her  "  (club  her). 

Mr.  Mann  saw  at  once  the  strange  turn  that  the 
young  Indian's  mind  had  taken.  He  was  puzzled 
again. 

"  ^o^  Benjamin  ;  I  will  teach  you  what  to  do." 

"  Teach  me  how  to  club  her  ?  You  are  good  ! 
Boston  tilicum,  we  will  be  brothers — you  and  I. 
She  wall-wall,  but  she  is  no  good." 

"  That  is  C." 

"Aha!     She  heap  wah-wah,  but  she  no  good." 

"  Now,  that  is  A,  B,  and  that  is  C.  Try  to  re- 
member them,  and  I  will  come  soon  and  talk  with 
you  again." 

"  You  wah-wah  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Mann,  doubtful  of  the  Indian's 
thought. 

"She  wah-wah?" 

"  Yes." 

"You  heap  wah-wah.     You  good.     She  heap»> 
wah-wah.     She  no  good.     Potlatch  come ;  dance. 
She  wah-wah  no  more.     I  wah-wah." 

Mr.  IMann  was  pained  to  see  the  revengeful 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  49 

trend  of  the  Indian's  tlioiight.  Tlie  liints  of  the 
evil  intention  of  tlie  Potlatch  troubled  him,  but  his 
faith  in  the  old  chief  and  the  influence  of  liis  own 
integrity  did  not  falter. 

Gretchen  was  the  most  advanced  scholar  in  the 
school.  Her  real  mother  had  been  an  accomplished 
woman,  and  had  taken  great  pains  with  her  educa- 
tion. She  was  well  instructed  in  the  English 
branches,  and  had  read  five  books  of  Virgil  in 
Latin.  Iler  reading  had  not  been  extensive,  but  it 
had  embraced  some  of  the  best  books  in  the  Enc:- 
lish  language.  Her  musical  education  had  been 
received  from  a  German  uncle,  who  had  been  in- 
structed by  Ilerr  "Wieck,  the  father  of  Clara  Schu- 
mann. He  had  been  a  great  lover  of  Schumann's 
dreamy  and  spiritual  music,  and  had  taught  her  the 
young  composer's  pieces  for  children,  and  among 
them  Romance  and  the  Traumerei.  He  had  taught 
her  to  play  the  two  tone  poems  together  in  chang- 
ing keys,  beginning  with  the  Traumerei  and  return- 
ing again  to  its  beautiful  and  haunting  strains. 
Gretchen  interpreted  these  poems  with  all  the  color 
of  true  feeling,  and  under  her  bow  they  became 
enchantment  to  a  musical  ear  and  a  delight  to  even 
as  unmusical  a  soul  as  Mrs.  Woods. 

Gretchen's  chief  literary  pleasure  had  been  the 


50    THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

study  of  the  German  poetR.  She  had  a  poetic 
mind,  and  had  learned  to  produce  good  rhymes. 
The  songs  of  Uhland,  Heine,  and  Schiller  delighted 
her  She  had  loved  to  read  the  strange  stories  of 
Hoffman,  and  the  imaginative  works  of  Baron 
Fouqu^.  She  used  to  aspire  to  be  an  author  or 
poet,  but  these  aspirations  had  received  no  counte- 
nance from  Mrs.  Woods,  and  yet  the  latter  seemed 
rather  proud  to  regard  her  ward  as  possessing  a 
superior  order  of  mind. 

"  If  there  is  anything  that  I  do  despise,"  Mrs. 
"Woods  used  to  say,  "  it  is  books  spun  out  of  the  air> 
all  about  nothin' !  Dreams  were  made  for  sleep, 
and  the  day  was  made  for  work.  I  haven't  much 
to  be  proud  of  in  this  world.  I've  always  been  a 
terror  to  lazy  people  and  to  Injuns,  and  if  any  one 
were  to  write  my  life  they'd  have  some  pretty  stir- 
ring stories  to  tell.  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  was 
made  for  something." 

Although  Mrs.  Woods  boasted  that  she  was  a 
terror  to  Indians,  she  had  been  very  apprehensive 
of  danger  sinco  the  Wliitman  colony  massacre. 
She  talked  bravely  and  acted  bravely  according  to 
her  view  of  moral  courage,  but  with  a  fearful  heart. 
She  dreaded  the  approaching  Potlatch,  and  the 
frenzy  that  calls  for  dark  deeds  if  the  dance  of 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  51 

the   evil   is})irits  should   conclude   the  approaching 


There  was  a  sullen  look  in  Benjamin's  face  as 
lie  silently  took  his  seat  in  the  log  school-house  the 
next  morning.  Mr.  Mann  saw  it,  and  instinctively 
felt  the  dark  and  mysterious  atmosphere  of  it  He 
went  to  him  innnediately  after  the  opening  exer- 
cises, and  said  : 

"  You  haven't  spoken  to  me  this  morning  ;  what 
troubles  you  ? " 

The  boy's  face  met  the  sympathetic  eye  of  the 
master,  and  he  said  : 

"  I  was  happy  on  the  morning  M'hen  I  came — 
sun  ;  f^/te  hate  Indian,  talk  against  him  to  you  ; 
make  me  unhappy — shade  ;  think  I  will  have  my 
reviiiv^G—jnl-j}/!  /  then  music  nuike  me  hajipy  ; 
you  make  mc  happy  ;  night  come,  and  I  think  of 
her — she  hate  Indian — shade.  Mo  will  have  my 
revenge — -pil-pil.  She  say  I  have  no  right  here ; 
she  have  no  right  here  ;  the  land  all  belong  to  Uma- 
tilla ;  then  to  me ;  I  no  have  her  liere.  Look  out 
for  the  October  moon — Potlatch — dance— ^;//-/>^7." 

"  I  will  be  a  friend  to  you,  Benjamin." 

"Yes,  Boston  tilicum,  we  will  be  friends." 

"And  I  will  teach  you  how  to  be  noble — like  a 
king.     You  felt  good  when  I  was  kind  to  you  ? " 


52    THE  LOG  SCllOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  Yes,  Boston  tilicuni." 

"  And  wlien  the  music  played  ?" 

"  Yes,  Boston  tilicuni." 

"  Then  you  nuist  be  good  to  her ;  that  will 
nuike  her  feel  good  toward  you.     Do  you  see  i " 

There  came  a  painful  look  into  the  younj^  In- 
dian's face. 

''  I  good  to  her,  make  her  good  i  She  good  to 
me  make  nie  good  ?  She  no  good  to  me.  She  say 
I  no  right  here.  The  land  belong  to  Umatilla. 
She  must  go.  You  stay.  Look  out  for  the  October 
moon.     She  wah-wah  no  more." 

"  It  is  nol)le  to  l)e  good  ;  it  makes  others  good." 

"  Then  why  isn't  she  good  ?  She  make  me 
ugly ;  you  make  me  good.  I  think  I  will  punish 
her — -jnl-j)U  •  then  you  speak  kind,  and  the  music 
play,  then  I  think  I  will  punish  her  not.  Then 
dark  thoughts  come  back  again  ;  clouds  come 
again ;  hawks  fly.  AVhat  me  do  ?  IMe  am  two 
selves  ;  one  self  when  I  think  of  you,  one  when  I 
think  of  her.  She  say  I  have  no  right.  She  have 
no  right.  All  right  after  Potlatch.  I  wah-wah; 
she  wah-wah  no  more." 

"  Be  good  yourself,  Benjamin.  Be  kind  to  her ; 
make  her  kind.     You  do  right." 

The  young  Indian  hesitated,  then  answered  : 


BObTON  TILICUM.  53 

"  I  do  as  you  say.  You  are  friciRl.  1*11  do 
as  I  feel  when  the  music  play.  I  try.  So  you 
say." 

The  cloud  passed.  The  teacher  paid  the  In- 
dian boy  S2)ecial  attention  that  morning.  At 
noon  Gretchen  played  Yon  "VVeljer's  Wild  Hunt  of 
Lutzow,  which  drove  Xapoleon  over  the  llhine. 
The  rhythm  of  the  music  picturing  the  heroic  cav- 
alry enchanted  Benjamin,  and  he  said  :  "  Play  it 
over  again."  After  the  music  came  a  foot-race 
among  the  boys,  which  Benjamin  easily  won.  The 
afternoon  passed  quietly,  until  in  the  cool,  length- 
ening shadows  of  the  trail  the  resolute  form  of 
Mrs.  lYoods  appeared. 

Benjamin  saw  her,  and  his  calm  mood  fled.  He 
looked  up  at  the  master. 

"  I  is  come  back  again — my  old  self  again.  She 
say  I  no  business  here  ;  she  no  business  here.  She 
wall-wall." 

The  master  laid  his  hand  on  the  boy's  slujulder 
kindly  and  bent  his  face  on  his. 

"  I  do  as  you  say,"  the  boy  continued.  "  I  will 
not  speak  till  my  good  self  come  again.  I  be  still. 
No  wall-wall." 

He  dropped  his  eyes  ujion  a  page  in  the  book, 
and  sat  immovable.     He  was  a  noble  picture  of  a 


54    THE  LOQ  SCIIOOL-UOUSE  ON  THE  COLUiMBIA. 

Htruggle  for  self-control  in  a  savage  and  untutored 
heart. 

IVrrs.  Woods  asked  for  (iretelien  at  the  door, 
and  the  master  excused  the  girl,  thanking  lier  for 
the  music  that  had  (! "lighted  the  school  at  the  noon- 
hour.  As  she  was  turning  to  go,  Mrs.  Woods  cast 
a  glance  toward  IJenjamin,  and  said  to  the  master 
in  an  midertone  :  "  He's  tame  now — quiet  as  a  pur- 
ring cat.  The  cat  don't  lick  cream  when  the  folks 
are  around.  But  he'll  make  trouble  yet.  An  In- 
jun is  a  Injun.  I  hate  Injuns,  though  Parson  Lee 
says  I  am  all  wrong.  When  you  have  seen  as  many 
of  'em  as  I  have,  you'll  know  more  than  you  do 
now." 

Benjamin  did  not  comprehend  the  words,  but 
he  felt  that  the  woman  had  said  something  injurious 
to  him.  The  suspicion  cut  him  to  the  quick.  His 
black  eye  sparkled  antl  his  cheek  burned.  The 
scholars  all  seemed  to  be  sorry  at  the  impression 
that  Mrs.  Woods's  muttered  words  had  left  in  his 
mind.  He  had  struggled  for  two  days  to  do  his 
best — to  follow  his  best  self. 

School  closed.  Benjamin  rose  like  a  statue. 
He  stood  silent  for  a  time  and  looked  at  the  slant- 
ing sun  and  the  dreamy  afternoon  glories  of  the 
glaciers,  then  moved  silently  out  of  the  door.     The 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  55 

old  chief  met  liiiii  in  tlie  opening,  and  saw  the  hurt 
and  tronhled  look  in  his  face. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  to  my  boy  i "  he 
said  to  the  master.     Has  he  not  been  good  ?" 

"  Very  good ;  I  like  liim,''  said  Mr.  IVfann. 
"  lie  is  trying  to  be  good  here,"  pointing  to  his 
heart.  "  The  good  in  him  will  grow.  I  will  help 
him." 

The  old  chief  and  the  boy  walked  away  slowly 
out  of  the  shadows  of  the  great  trees  and  np  the 
cool  trail.  The  tall  master  followed  them  with  his 
eye.  In  the  departing  forms  lie  saw  a  picture  of 
the  disappearing  race.  He  knew  history  well,  and 
how  it  would  repeat  itself  on  the  great  plateau  and 
amid  the  giant  forests  of  the  Oregon.  He  felt  that 
the  old  man  waa  probably  one  of  the  hist  great 
chiefs  of  the  Umatillas. 

On  one  of  the  peninsulas  of  the  Oregon,  the  so- 
called  Islands  of  the  Dead,  the  old  warriors  of  the 
tribes  were  being  gatliered  by  the  plagues  that  had 
come  to  the  territories  and  tribal  regions  ever  since 
the  Hudson  Bay  Company  established  its  posts  on 
tlie  west  of  the  mountains,  and  Astoria  had  l)een 
planted  on  the  great  river,  and  settlers  had  gathered 
in  the  mountain-domed  valley  of  the  Willamette. 
Wlierever  the  white  sail  went  in  the  glorious  riv- 


50    THE  LOO  SCIIOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMIHA. 

ers,  pestilencu  eiiine  to  tlio  native  tribes.  The  In- 
dian race  \vm  perceptibly  vanishin*!^.  Only  one  son 
of  Beven  was  left  to  Umatilla.  AVliat  would  be  tlie 
fate  of  this  boy  ? 

The  master  went  home  troubled  over  the  event 
of  the  afternoon.  He  was  asking  the  Indian  to  be 
better  than  his  opponent,  and  she  was  a  well-mean- 
ing woman  and  nominally  a  Christian. 

His  lirst  thought  was  to  go  to  ]\[rs.  AVoods  and 
ask  her  to  wlujlly  change  her  sj)irit  and  manners, 
and,  in  fact,  preacli  to  her  the  same  simple  doctrine 
of  following  only  one's  better  self  that  he  liad 
taught  to  the  young  prince.  But  he  well  knew 
that  she  had  not  a  teachable  mind.  He  resolved 
to  try  to  reach  the  same  result  through  Gretchen, 
whom  she  nj^braided  with  her  tongue  but  loved  in 
her  heart. 

Mrs.  Woods  had  come  to  regard  it  as  her  aj)- 
pointed  mission  to  abuse  people  for  their  good. 
She  thought  it  tended  toward  their  sj^iritual  prog- 
ress and  development.  She  often  said  that  she  felt 
"  called  to  set  things  right,  and  not  let  two  or  three 
peo])le  have  their  own  way  in  everything  " — a  view 
of  life  not  nncommon  among  peoj^le  of  larger  op- 
portunities and  better  education. 

Benjamin  came  to  school  the  next  morning  si- 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  57 

lout  iiiid  sullon,  and  the  master  went  to  hlni  ai^ain 
in  the  same  H})irit  as  before. 

"  Slie  say  I  no  ri<;ht  here,"  he  said.  "  She  suf- 
fer for  it.  Slie  wah-wah.  Look  out  fur  the  Octo- 
ber moon." 

"  No,  you  are  a  better  Indian  now." 

"  Yes ;  sometimes." 

"The  better  Indian  harms  no  one — one's  good 
self  never  does  evil.  You  are  to  be  your  good  self, 
and  please  me." 

The  young  Indian  was  silent  for  a  time.  lie 
at  last  said,  slowly  : 

"  But  me  know  who  will." 

"  Do  what,  Benjamin  ? " 

"  Make  her  sulfer — punish." 

"Who?" 

"  I  know  a  bad  Indian  who  will.     He  say  so." 

"  You  must  not  let  him.  You  are  son  of  a 
chief." 

"  I  will  try.     I  no  wah-wali  now." 

At  noon  Benjamin  was  light-hearted,  and  led 
the  sports  and  games.  He  was  very  strong,  and 
one  of  his  lively  feats  was  to  let  three  or  four  chil- 
dren clind)  upon  his  l)ack  and  run  away  with  them 
until  they  tumbled  off.  He  seemed  perfectly  bappy 
when  be  was  making  the  others  hap])y,  and  nothing 


58    THE  LOa  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

so  delighted  him  as  to  be  coiimiuiided.  llo  loii<^ud 
to  bo  popular,  not  from  any  sellitih  reatjoii,  l)Ut 
because  to  be  liked  by  otliers  was  bis  atmospliere 
of  contentment.  lie  was  kindly  above  most  In- 
dians, a  trait  for  which  his  father  was  famous. 
lie  was  even  kindly  ai)ove  many  of  the  white 
people. 

The  next  morniii<j;  he  came  to  school  in  good 
humor,  and  a  curious  incident  occurred  soon  after 
the  school  began.  A  little  black  bear  ventured 
down  the  trail  toward  the  open  door,  stopj)ing  at 
times  and  lifting  up  its  head  curiously  and  cau- 
tiously. It  at  last  ventured  up  to  the  door,  put 
its  fore  feet  on  the  door-sill,  and  looked  into  the 
room. 

"  Kill  it ! "  cried  one  of  the  boys,  a  recent 
emigrant,  in  the  alarm.     "  Kill  it !  " 

"What  harm  it  do?"  said  the  Indian  boy. 
"  Me  drive  it  away." 

The  young  Indian  started  toward  the  door  as  at 
play,  and  shook  his  head  at  the  young  bear,  which 
was  of  the  hannless  kind  so  well  known  in  the 
Northwest,  and  the  bear  turned  and  ran,  while  the 
Indian  followed  it  toward  the  wood.  The  odd 
event  was  quite  excusable  on  any  ground  of  rule 
and  propriety  in  the  primitive  school. 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  59 

"It  no  liiirin  ;  let  it  p>,"  Buid  the  boy  on  liis 
roturn ;  and  tlio  si)irit  of  tlie  iiicidt'ut  wna  good 
and  ediu'iitionid  in  the  liuirts  of  tlie  scliool. 

Tho  I'luirni  of  hi.s  life  was  (fretchen'H  violin. 
It  tran8ii«!;ured  him ;  it  changed  the  world  to  him. 
Ilis  father  was  a  forest  philosopher;  the  boy  caught 
a  like  8i)irit,  and  often  said  things  that  were  a  reve- 
lation to  A[r.  IVIann. 

"  Why  do  you  like  the  violin  so  much  ? "  said 
the  latter  to  him  one  day. 

"  It  brings  to  me  the  thing  longed  for— the 
thing  I  long  to  know." 

^' Why,  what  is  that?" 

"I  can't  tell  it— I  feel  it  here— I  fiense  it— I 
shall  know — something  better— yonder— the  thing 
we  lone  for,  but  do  not  know.  Don't  you  long  for 
it?     Don't  you  feel  it?" 

The  tall  schoolmaster  said  "Yes,"  and  was 
thoughtful.  The  po(M'  Indian  had  tried  to  express 
that  something  beyond  his  self  of  which  he  could 
only  now  have  a  dim  conception,  and  about  which 
even  science  is  dumb.  i\[r.  Mann  understood  it, 
but  he  could  hardly  have  expressed  it  better. 

The  boy  learned  the  alphabet  quickly,  and  began 
to  demand  constant  attention  in  his  eagerness  to 
learn.     Mr.  Mann  found  that  die  was  giving  more 


00    THE  LOO  SCIIOOI^IIOl'SE  ON  THE  COLUMniA. 

than  the  ullottcd  time  to  liini.  Tu  nieet  tlie  case, 
ho  appointed  from  time  to  time  members  of  tlie 
M'ljool  "  monitors,"  a.H  he  called  ^'lem,  to  sit  beside 
liim  and  lielp  liim. 

One  <luy  lie  asked  ClreteheTi  to  do  this  "work. 
Tlio  hoy  was  ddii^dited  to  he  instructed  hy  the 
mistress  of  the  violin,  and  she  was  as  }»leased 
with  the  lionor  of  such  monitorial  duties  to  the 
son  of  a  chief.  Ihit  an  unexpected  episode  ^M'ew 
out  of  all  this  mutual  good-will  and  helpful  kind- 
ness. 

T^enjamin  was  so  grateful  to  Gretchen  for  the 
pains  that  she  took  with  his  studies  that  lie  wished 
to  repay  her.  lie  had  a  pretty  little  Caynse  pony 
which  he  used  to  ride ;  one  day  after  school  he 
caused  it  to  he  brought  to  the  school-house,  and, 
setting  Gretchen  npon  it,  he  led  it  by  the  name  up 
the  trail  toward  her  home,  a  innnber  of  the  pupils 
following  them.  On  the  way  the  merry-making 
party  met  IVIrs.  "Woods.  She  was  as  astonished 
as  though  she  had  encountered  an  elephant,  and 
there  came  into  her  face  a  look  of  displeasure  and 
anger. 

"  AVhat  kind  of  doings  are  these,  I  would  like 
to  know?"  she  exclaimed,  in  a  sharp  tone,  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  way  and  scanning  every  face. 


BOSTON  TTTJrrM.  01 

"Hiding  out  with  an  Iiijim,  (iivtclR'n,  are  you  ( 
Tliut'n  what  }'i)U  urc  (loin*;,  (lirl,  gut  oil  that  horse 
and  coino  witli  mo !  That  in  tliu  kind  of  propriety 
that  tlicy  teacli  out  in  these  parts,  is  it  'i  and  tlie 
master  eanie  from  Harvard  College,  too  I  One 
would  think  tliat  this  world  was  just  made  to  en- 
joy one'a  self  in,  just  like  a  sheep  pasture,  where 
the  lamhs  go  hopping  and  ski[)[)ing,  not  knowing 
that  tliey  were  horn  to  he  tleeced." 

She  hurried  Gretelien  away  exeltedly,  and  tlie 
school  turned  hack.  JJenjamin  was  disappointed, 
and  h)oked  more  liurt  than  ever  before.  On  the 
way  lie  met  his  old  father,  wlio  had  come  out  to 
h>ok  for  liim,  and  the  rest  of  the  scholars  dispersed 
to  their  homes. 

Tliat  evening,  after  a  long,  vivid  twilight,  such 
as  throws  its  splendor  over  the  mountain  ranges  in 
these  northern  latitudes,  l^Frs.  "Woods  and  Gretchen 
were  sitting  in  their  log-house  just  within  the  open 
door.  Mr.  "Woods  was  at  the  block-house  at  AValla 
"Walla,  and  the  cabin  was  unprotected.  The  light 
was  fading  in  the  tall  pines  of  the  valleys,  and  there 
M'as  a  deep  silence  everywhere,  undisturbed  by  so 
nmcli  as  a  whisper  of  the  Chinook  winds.  Mrs. 
AVoods's  thoughts  seemed  far  away  —  (hjubtless 
among  the  old  meadows,  orchards,  and  farm-iields 


62    THE  LOG  SCHOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

of  New  England.  Gretclieii  was  playing  the  musi- 
cal glasses. 

Suddenly  IVIrs.  AVoods's  thoughts  came  back  from 
their  far-away  journeys.  8he  had  seen  something 
that  disturbed  her.  She  sat  peering  into  a  tract  of 
trees  which  were  some  three  hundred  feet  high — 
one  of  the  great  tree  cathedrals  of  the  Korth west- 
ern forests.     Suddenly  she  said  : 

"  Gretchen,  there  are  Injuns  in  the  pines. 
Watch ! " 

Gretchen  looked  out,  but  saw  nothing. 

The  shadows  deepened. 

"  I  have  twice  seen  Injuns  passing  from  tree  to 
tree  and  hiding.  Why  are  they  f'.cre  ?  There — 
look  ! " 

A  sinewy  form  in  the  shadows  of  the  pines  ap- 
peared and  disappeared.     Gretchen  saw  it. 

"  They  mean  evil,  or  they  would  not  hide. 
Gretchen,  what  shall  we  do  ? " 

Mrs.  Woods  closed  the  door  and  barred  it, 
took  dowTi  the  rifle  from  the  side  of  the  room, 
and  looked  out  through  a  crevice  in  the  split 
shutter. 

There  was  a  silence  for  a  time ;  then  Mrs. 
Woods  moved  and  said  :  "  They  are  coming  toward 
the  house,  passing  from  one  tree  to  another.     They 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  68 

mean  revenge — I  feel  it — revenge  on  nic,  and  Ben- 
jamin— lie  is  the  leader  of  it." 

The  Hitting  of  shadowy  forms  among  the  pines 
grew  alarming.  Xearer  and  nearer  they  came,  and 
more  and  more  excited  became  Mrs.  Woods's  ap- 
]jrehensions.  Gretchen  began  to  cry,  through  nerv- 
ous excitement,  and  with  the  first  rush  of  tears 
came  to  her,  as  usual,  the  thought  of  her  violin. 

She  took  up  the  instrument,  tuned  it  with  nerv- 
ous fingers,  and  drew  the  l)ow  across  the  strings, 
making  them  shriek  as  with  pain,  and  then  drifted 
into  the  air  the  music  of  the  Traumerei. 

"  Fiddling,  Gretchen — fiddling  in  the  shadow  of 
death  ?  I  don't  know  but  what  you  are  right — that 
tune,  too ! " 

The  music  trembled ;  the  haunting  strain  quiv- 
ered, rose  and  descended,  and  was  repeated  over 
and  over  again. 

"  There  is  no  movement  in  the  i)ines,"  said 
Mrs.  "Woods.  "  It  is  growing  darker.  Play  on. 
It  does  seem  as  though  that  strain  was  stolen  from 
heaven  to  overcome  evil  with." 

Gretchen  played.  An  hour  passed,  and  the 
moon  rose.  Then  she  laid  down  the  violin  and 
listened. 

"  Oh,  Gretchen,  he  is  coming !     I    know   that 


04    THE  LOG  SCUOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

form.  It  is  Benjaiuin.  lie  is  coining  alone. 
AVliat  shall  we  do  ?  He  is — right  before  the 
door ! " 

Gretchen's  eye  fell  upon  the  musical  glasses, 
which  were  among  the  few  things  that  she  had 
brought  from  the  East  and  which  had  belonged  to 
her  old  German  home.  She  had  tuned  them  early 
in  the  evening  by  pouring  water  into  them,  as  she 
had  been  taught  to  do  in  her  old  German  village, 
and  she  wet  her  fingers  and  touched  them  to  the 
tender  forest  hymn  : 

"  Now  the  woods  are  all  sleeping." 

"  He  has  stopped,"  said  Mrs.  AVoods.  "  He  is 
listening — play." 

The  music  filled  the  cabin.  'No  tones  can  equal 
in  sweetness  the  musical  glasses,  and  the  trembling 
nerves  of  Gretchen's  fingers  gave  a  spirit  of  pa- 
thetic pleading  to  the  old  German  forest  hymn. 
Over  and  over  again  she  played  the  air,  waiting 
for  the  word  of  Mrs.  Woods  to  cease. 

"  lie  is  going,"  said  Mrs.  AYoods,  slowly.  "  He 
is  moving  back  toward  the  pines.  He  has  changed 
his  mind,  or  has  gone  for  his  band.     You  may  stop 


now." 


IMrs.  "Woods  watched  by  the  split  shutter  until 


BOSTON  TILICUM.  66 

past  midiiiglit.  Then  slie  laid  down  on  tlie  bed, 
and  Gretclien  watched,  and  one  listened  while  the 
other  dept,  by  turns,  during  the  night.  But  no 
footstep  was  heard.  The  niidsunnner  sun  l)lazed 
over  the  pines  in  the  early  morning ;  l)irds  sang 
gayly  in  the  dewy  air,  and  Gretelien  prepared  the 
morning  meal  as  usual,  then  made  her  way  to  the 
log  school-house. 

She  found  Benjamin  there.  lie  met  her  with  a 
happy  face. 

"  Bad  Indian  come  to  your  cabin  last  night," 
said  he.  "  He  mean  evil ;  he  hate  old  woman. 
She  wall-wall  too  much,  and  he  hate.  Bad  Indian 
hear  music — violin  ;  he  be  pleased — evil  hawks  fly 
out  of  him.  Good  Indian  come  back.  One  is  tied 
to  the  other.  One  no  let  the  other  go.  "What  was 
that  low  music  I  hear?  Baby  music!  Chinook 
wind  in  the  bushes!  Quail— motlor-bird  singing 
to  her  nest !     I  love  that  nnisic. 

"  Say,  you  play  at  Potlatch,  frighten  away  the 
hawks ;  mother-birds  sing.  Ts'o  devil  dance.  Say, 
I  have  been  good  ;  no  harm  old  wah-wali.  Will 
you — will  you  play — play  that  tin-tin  at  Potlatch 
under  the  bi<i;  moon  ? " 

A  great  thought  had  taken  possession  of  the 
young  Indian's  mind,  and  a  great  plan — one  worthy 


00    THE  'LOG  SCIIOOL-UOUSE  ON  TUE  COLUMBIA. 

of  a  leader  of  a  peace  congress.  Gretclien  saw 
the  plan  in  part,  but  did  not  fully  comprehend  it. 
She  could  only  see  that  his  life  had  bect)nie  a  strug- 
gle between  good  and  evil,  and  that  he  was  now 
following  some  good  impulse  of  his  better  nature. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


MRS.    WOODs's   TAME   BEAR. 


Mrs.  Woods  was  much  alone  during  this  slim- 
mer. Iler  husband  was  away  from  home  during 
tlie  working  days  of  tlie  week,  at  the  saw  and  shin- 
gle mill  on  the  Columbia,  and  during  the  same  days 
Gretchen  was  much  at  school. 

The  summer  in  the  mountain  valleys  of  "Wash- 
ington is  a  long  serenity.  The  deep-blue  sky  is  an 
ocean  of  intense  light,  and  the  sunbeams  glint  amid 
the  cool  forest  shadows,  and  seem  to  sprinkle  the 
plains  with  gold-dust  like  golden  snow.  I^s'otwith- 
standing  her  hard  practical  speech,  which  was  a 
habit,  ]\[rs.  Woods  loved  Nature,  and,  when  her 
work  was  done,  she  often  made  little  journeys  alone 
into  the  mountain  woods. 

In  one  of  these  solitary  excursions  she  met  with 
a  little  black  cub  and  captured  it,  and,  gathering  it 
up  in  her  apron  like  a  kitten,  she  ran  with  it  toward 


68    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

liur  cabin,  tifter  looking  belli nd  to  sec  if  the  mother 
bear  was  folhnving  her.  Kad  she  seen  the  mother 
of  the  cunning  little  black  creature  in  lier  apron 
pursuing  her,  she  would  have  dropped  the  cub, 
which  would  have  insured  her  escape  from  danger. 
But  the  mother  bear  did  not  make  an  early  discov- 
ery of  the  loss  in  her  family.  She  was  probaljly  out 
berrying,  and  such  exi)eriences  of  stolen  children 
were  wholly  unknown  to  the  bear  family  in  Wash- 
ington before  this  time.  The  Indians  would  not 
have  troubled  the  little  cub. 

The  black  bear  of  the  Cascades  is  quite  harm- 
less, and  its  cubs,  like  kittens,  seem  to  have  a  sense 
of  humor  unusual  among  animals.  For  a  white 
child  to  see  a  cub  is  to  desire  it  to  tame  for  a  pet, 
and  Mrs.  Woods  felt  the  same  childish  instincts 
when  she  caught  up  the  little  creature,  which 
seemed  to  have  no  fear  of  anything,  and  ran  away 
with  it  toward  her  home. 

It  was  Saturday  evening  when  she  returned,  and 
she  found  both  Mr.  AVoods  and  Gretchen  waiting 
to  meet  her  at  the  door.  They  were  surpi-ised  to 
see  her  haste  and  the  pivotal  turning  of  her  head 
at  times,  as  though  she  feared  pursuit  from  some 
dangerous  foe. 

Out  of  breath,  she  sank  down  on  the  log  that 


MRS.  WUODS'S  TAME  BEAR.  (JD 

served  for  a  step,  and,  opening  lier  apron  eantiously, 
said : 

"  See  here." 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  ? "  said  !Mr.  "Woods, 

"  I  stole  it." 

"  "VYliat  are  jou  going  to  do  with  it  i " 

"Raise  it." 

"What  for?" 

"  For  company.     I  haven't  any  neiglibors." 

"  But  wliat  do  you  want  it  for  i  " 

"It  is  so  cunning.  It  just  rolled  over  in  the 
trail  at  my  feet,  and  I  grabl)ed  it  and  ran." 

"  But  what  if  the  mother-bear  should  come  after 
it  ?  "  asked  Gretchcn. 

"  I  would  shoot  her." 

"That  would  be  a  strange  way  to  treat  your 
new  neighbors,"  said  ]\[r.  Woods. 

Mr.  Woods  put  a  leather  strap  around  the  neck 
of  the  little  bear,  and  tied  the  strap  to  a  log  in  the 
yard.  The  little  thing  began  to  be  alarmed  at  these 
strange  proceedings,  and  to  show  a  disposition  to 
use  its  paws  in  resistance,  but  it  soon  learned  not 
to  fear  its  captors ;  its  adoption  into  the  shingle- 
maker's  family  was  quite  easily  enforced,  and  the 
pet  seemed  to  feel  quite  at  home. 

There  was  some  difficulty  at  first  in  teaching  the 


70    TIIH  lAHi  SCIIOOL-HorSE  OX  TIIK  COLUMBIA. 

cub  to  eat,  hut  liun<^or  iiukIo  it  a  tra('tal>lo  pupil 
t)f  the  herry  dish,  and  Mrs.  Woods  was  soon  ahle 
to  say : 

"  Tliere  it  is,  just  as  good  as  a  kitten,  and  I 
would  rather  have  it  than  to  have  a  kitten.  It 
belongs  to  these  parts." 

Poor  I^frs.  AVoods!  She  soon  found  that  her 
pet  did  "  belong  to  these  parts,"  and  that  its  native 
instincts  were  strong,  despite  her  moral  training. 
Slie  lost  her  bear  in  a  most  disappointing  way,  and 
after  she  supposed  that  it  had  become  wholly  de- 
voted to  her. 

She  had  taught  it  to  "roll  over"  for  its  din- 
ner, and  it  had  grown  to  think  that  all  the  good 
things  of  this  world  came  to  bears  by  their  willing- 
ness to  roll  over.  AVhenever  any  member  of  the 
family  appeared  at  the  door,  the  cub  would  roll 
over  like  a  ball,  and  expect  to  be  fed,  petted,  and 
rewarded  for  the  feat. 

"I  taught  it  that,"  Mrs.  Woods  used  to  say. 
"  I  could  teach  it  anything.  It  is  just  as  know- 
ing as  it  is  running,  and  lots  of  company  for  me 
out  here  in  the  mountains.  It  thinks  more  of 
me  than  of  its  old  mother.  You  can  educate  any- 
thing." 

As  the  cub  grew,  Mrs.  AVoods's  attachment  to 


MRS.  WOODS'S  TAMK   IJKAll.  71 

it  increased.  81ie  could  not  beiir  to  see  its  free- 
dom restrained  by  the  strap  and  f«trin^,  and  so  she 
untied  the  string  from  the  log  and  let  it  drag  it 
about  during  the  day,  only  fastening  it  at  night. 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  its  running  away,"  said 
she;  "it  thinks  too  much  of  me  and  the  l)erry 
dish.  I've  tamed  it  comi»letely  ;  it's  as  faith- 
ful to  its  home  as  a  liouse-cat,  and  a  great  deal  more 
comi)anv  than  a  cat  or  do«r  or  any  other  dunil>  ani- 
mal.  The  nicest  bird  to  tame  is  a  blue-jay,  and  the 
best  animal  for  company  is  a  cub.  I  do  believe 
that  I  could  tame  the  whole  race  of  bears  if  I  oidy 
had  'em." 

IVIrs.  Woods  had  a  pet  blue-jay  that  she  had 
taken  when  voimo;  from  its  nest,  and  it  would  do 
many  comical  things.  It  seemed  to  have  a  sense  of 
humor,  like  a  magi)ie,  and  to  enjoy  a  theft  like  that 
bird.  She  finally  gave  it  the  freedom  of  the  air, 
but  it  would  return  at  her  call  for  fo<jd  and  eat 
from  her  hand.  The  blue-jay  is  naturally  a  very 
wild  bird,  but  when  it  is  tamed  it  becomes  very 
inquisitive  and  social,  and  seems  to  have  a  brain 
full  of  invention  and  becomes  a  very  comical  pet, 
Mrs.  Woods  called  her  pet  bear  Little  Roll  Over. 

One  day  a  visitor  ai)peared  at  the  emigrant's 
cabin.     A  black  she-bear  came  out  of  the  woods, 


72    THE  Loa  SCIIOOL-IIOL'SE  ON  THE  COLUMniA. 

Hiul,  Hct'ing  tlio  cul),  stood  up  on  Iior  liiiunches  in 
sur])rise  and  seemed  to  wij,  *'  How  oauio  you 
here  'i  "     It  was  evidently  tlie  uiotlier  of  tlie  ciil). 

Tlic  cul)  saw  its  mother  and  rolled  over  sev- 
eral times,  and  tlien  stood  up  on  its  haunehes  and 
looked  at  her,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Where  did  you 
come  from,  and  what  brought  you  here?"  In  the 
midst  of  this  interestin<^  interview  Mrs.  AV^oods  ap- 
peared at  the  door  of  the  cahin. 

She  saw  the  mother- hear.  True  to  her  New 
England  instincts,  she  shook  her  homespun  apron 
and  said:  "Shoo!" 

She  also  saw  that  the  little  hear  was  greatly  ex- 
cited, and  nnder  the  stress  of  temptation. 

"  Here,"  said  she,  "  roll  over." 

The  cub  did  so,  but  in  the  direction  of  its 
mother. 

Mrs.  "Woods  hurried  out  toward  it  to  prevent 
this  ungrateful  gravitation. 

The  mother-bear  seemed  much  to  wonder  that 
the  cub  should  be  found  in  such  forbidden  associa- 
tions, and  began  to  make  signs  by  dipping  her  fore 
paws.  The  cnb  evidentlv  understood  these  siirns, 
and  desired  to  renew  its  old-time  family  relations. 

"Here,"  said  ^Mrs.  Woods,  "  yon— you— you 
mind  now ;  roll  over — roll  over." 


"5 


9 


MUS.  WUODS'S  TAMH   WKAll.  78 

Tlie  cul)  did  ho,  tnio  to  its  cduciitidn  in  one  ro- 
8j)t't't,  hut  it  did  not  n»ll  in  the  dircctidii  of  its 
fowter-nutthiT,  l»ut  rolled  toward  itn  own  mother. 
It  turned  over  sonio  tivo  or  more  times,  then 
h(»unded  u\)  and  ran  towanl  the  ulie-bear.  Tlio 
latter  droi)i)ed  her  fore  feet  on  tlie  eartli  n«,^iin,  and 
tlie  two  hears,  evidently  greatly  delighted  to  iind 
each  other,  (quickly  disappeared  in  the  woods.  As 
the  cub  was  about  to  enter  the  bushes  it  turned 
and  gave  a  final  glanee  at  Mrs.  Woods  and  rolled 
over. 

This  was  too  much  for  ^Frs.  AVoods's  heart.  She 
said  : 

"After  all  I  have  done  for  ye,  too!  Oh,  Little 
Roll  Over,  Little  "Roll  Over,  I  wouldn't  have 
thought  it  of  you !  " 

She  surveyed  the  empty  yard,  threw  her  apron 
over  her  head,  as  stricken  people  used  to  do  in 
Lynn  in  the  hour  of  misfortune,  and  sat  down  on 
the  log  at  the  door  and  cried. 

"  I  never  have  had  any  confidence  in  Tn- 
jnns,"  she  said,  "  since  my  saw  walked  off.  But 
I  did  have  some  respect  for  bears.  I  wonder  if 
I  shall  ever  meet  that  little  cre'tur'  again,  and, 
if  I  do,  if  it  will  roll  over.  This  world  is  all 
full     of    disappointments,    and    I    have    had    my 


74    TUE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

share.     Maybe  I'll  get  it  back  to  me  yet.     Never- 
theless— " 

Mrs.  Woods  often  talked  of  Little  Roll  Over 
and  its  cunning  ways ;  she  hoped  she  would  some 
time  meet  it  again,  and  wondered  how  it  would 
act  if  she  should  find  it. 


CIIAPTER  V. 

THE   NEST   OF   THE   FISHING    EAGLE. 

Benjamin  contiimcd  to  attend  the  school,  hut  it 
was  evident  that  he  did  so  with  an  injure*!  iieart, 
and  chiefly  out  of  hjve  for  the  old  chief,  his  father. 
He  had  a  high  regard  for  his  teacher,  whose  kind- 
ness was  unfailing,  and  he  showed  a  certain  partial- 
ity for  Gretchen ;  hut  he  was  as  a  rule  silent,  and 
there  were  dark  lines  on  his  forehead  that  showed 
that  he  was  unhappy.  He  would  not  he  treated  as 
an  inferior,  and  he  seemed  to  f'jel  that  he  was  so 
regarded  hy  the  scholars. 

He  hegan  to  show  a  peculiar  kind  of  contempt 
for  all  of  the  pupils  except  Gretchen.  He  pre- 
tended not  to  see  them,  hear  them,  or  to  he  aware 
of  their  presence  or  existence.  He  would  pass 
through  a  group  of  hoys  as  though  the  place  was 
vacant,  not  so  much  as  moving  his  eye  from  the 
direct  path.  He  came  and  went,  solitary  and  self- 
contained,  proud,  cold,  and  revengeful. 


7G    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

But  this  indiHerencc  was  caused  by  sensitive- 
ness and  the  feeling  tliat  lie  had  been  slighted. 
Tlie  dark  lines  relaxed,  and  his  face  wore  a  kindly 
ii-low  whenever  his  teacher  went  to  his  desk — if  the 
split-log  bench  for  a  book-rest  might  be  so  called. 
"•  I  would  give  my  life  for  Gretchen  and  you,"  he 
said  one  day  to  Mr.  ]\Iann  ;  and  added  :  "  I  would 
save  them  all  for  you." 

There  was  a  cluster  of  gigantic  trees  close  by 
the  school-house,  nearly  two  hundred  feet  high. 
The  trees,  which  were  fir,  had  only  dry  stumps  of 
limbs  for  a  distance  of  nearly  one  hundred  feet 
from  the  ground.  At  the  top,  or  near  the  top,  the 
green  leaves  or  needles  and  dead  boughs  liad  mat- 
ted together  and  formed  a  kind  of  shelf  or  eyrie, 
and  on  this  a  pair  of  fishing  eagles  had  made  their 
nest. 

The  nest  had  been  there  many  years,  and  the 
eagles  had  come  back  to  it  during  the  breeding  sea- 
son and  reared  tlieir  young. 

For  a  time  after  the  opening  of  the  school  none 
of  the  pupils  seemed  to  give  any  special  attention 
to  this  hi<:;h  nest.  It  was  a  cheerful  sight  at  noon 
to  see  the  eagles  wheel  in  the  air,  or  the  male  eagle 
come  from  the  glimmering  hills  and  alight  beside 
his  mate. 


THE  NEST  OP  THE  FISHING  EAGLE.  77 

One  afternoon  a  sudden  shadow  like  a  fallin<r 
cloud  passed  by  the  half-open  shutter  of  the  log 
school-house  and  caused  the  pupils  to  start.  There 
was  a  sharp  cry  of  distress  in  the  air,  and  the  mas- 
ter looked  out  and  said  : 

"  Attend  to  your  hooks,  children  ;  it  is  only  the 
eagle." 

But  again  and  again  the  same  swift  shadow,  like 
the  fragment  of  a  storm-cloud,  passed  across  the 
light,  and  the  wild  scream  of  the  hird  caused  the 
scholars  to  watch  and  to  listen.  The  cry  was  that 
of  agony  and  affright,  and  it  was  so  recognized  by 
Benjamin,  whose  ear  and  eye  were  open  to  Xatnre, 
and  who  understood  the  voices  and  cries  of  the 
wild  and  winged  inhabitants  of  the  trees  and  air. 

He  raised  his  liand. 

"  ]\Iay  I  go  see  ? " 

The  master  bowed  silently.  The  boy  glided 
out  of  the  door,  and  was  heard  to  exclaim  : 

"  Look  !  look  !  the  nest — the  nest !  " 

The  master  granted  the  school  a  recess,  and  all 
in  a  few  moments  were  standing  M'ithout  the  door 
peering  into  the  tall  trees. 

The  long  dry  weather  and  withering  sun  had 
caused  the  dead  boughs  to  shrink  and  to  break 
beneath   the  great  weight  of  the  nest  that  rested 


78    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSP:  ON  THE  COLUxMBIA. 

upon  tliem.  The  eagle's  nest  was  in  ruins.  It  liad 
fallen  upon  the  lower  boughs,  and  two  young  half- 
Hedged  eaglets  were  to  be  seen  hanging  heli)les.sly 
on  a  few  sticks  in  mid-air  and  in  danger  of  falling 
to  the  ground. 

It  was  a  briirht  afternoon.  The  distress  of  the 
two  birds  was  pathetic,  and  their  cries  called  about 
them  other  birds,  as  if  in  sympathy. 

The  eagles  seldom  descended  to  any  point  near 
the  plain  in  their  flight,  but  mounted,  as  it  were,  to 
the  sun,  or  floated  high  in  the  air ;  but  in  their  dis- 
tress this  afternoon  they  darted  downward  almost 
to  the  ground,  as  though  appealing  for  he  ^j  for 
their  young. 

While  the  school  was  watching  this  cnrious 
scene  the  old  chief  of  the  IJmatillas  came  up  the 
cool  highway  or  trail,  to  go  home  with  Benjamin 
after  school. 

The  eagles  seemed  to  know  him.  As  ho  joined 
the  pitying  group,  the  female  eagle  descended  as  in 
a  spasm  of  grief,  and  her  wing  swept  his  plume. 
She  uttered  a  long,  tremulous  cry  as  she  passed  and 
ascended  to  her  young. 

"  She  call,"  said  the  old  chief.     "  She  call  me." 

"  I  go,"  said  Benjamin,  with  a  look  at  his 
father. 


THE  NEST  OF  THE  FISHING  EAGLE.         79 

"  Yes,  go — she  cjill.  She  call — the  God  over- 
head he  call.     Go  !  " 

A  slender  young  pine  ran  up  beside  one  of  the 
giant  trees,  tall  and  green.  In  a  moment  Jien jamln 
was  seen  ascending  this  pine  to  a  point  where  he 
could  throw  himself  upon  the  smallest  of  the  great 
trees  and  grasp  the  ladder  of  the  lower  dead 
branches.  Up  and  up  he  went  in  the  view  of  all, 
until  he  had  reached  a  height  of  some  hundred  and 
fifty  feet. 

The  eagles  wheeled  around  him,  describing 
liigher  circles  as  he  ascended.  lie  reached  the 
young  eagles  at  last,  but  passed  by  them.  AVhat 
was  lie  going  to  do  ? 

There  was  a  shelf  of  green  boughs  above  him, 
which  would  l)ear  tlie  weight  of  a  nest.  He  went 
up  to  them  at  a  distance  of  nearly  two  hundred 
feet.  He  then  began  to  gather  \\p  the  fallen  sticks 
of  the  old  nest,  and  to  l)reak  off  new  sticks  and  to 
construct  a  new  nest.  Tlie  old  chief  watched  him 
with  pride,  and,  turning  to  the  master,  said  : 

"  Ah-a — that  is  my  boy.  He  be  me.  I  was  he 
once — it  is  gone  now — what  I  was." 

When  Benjamin  had  made  a  nest  lie  descended, 
and  at  the  peril  of  his  own  life,  on  the  decayed 
limbs,  he  rescued  the  two  young  eagles  that  were 


80    THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

lian<^iii_i,'  Avitli  heads  downward  and  open  beaks. 
He  cai-ried  tliem  up  to  the  new  nest  and  i)laced 
them  in  it,  and  began  to  descend. 

But  a  withered  bough  that  he  grasped  was  too 
slender  for  his  weiglit,  and  broke.  He  grasped 
another,  Init  that  too  gave  way.  He  tried  to  drop 
int(j  the  top  of  the  tall  young  pine  below  him,  but, 
in  his  effort  to  get  into  position  to  do  so,  limb  after 
liml)  of  dead  wood  broke,  and  he  came  falling  to 
tlie  earth,  amid  the  startled  looks  of  the  chief  and 
the  cries  of  the  children. 

The  ground  was  soft,  and  his  body  lay  for  a 
time  half  imbedded  in  it. 

He  was  senseless,  and  blood  streamed  from  his 
nose  and  reddened  his  eyes.  The  old  chief  seized 
his  arm  and  tried  to  raise  him,  but  the  effort 
brought  no  sign  of  life,  and  his  body  was  low- 
ered slowly  back  again  by  the  agonized  father, 
who  sat  down  and  dropped  his  head  on  his  son's 
breast. 

Mr.  Mann  l)rouglit  water  and  wet  the  boy's  lips 
and  bathed  his  lirow.  He  then  placed  his  hand 
ON'er  the  boy's  heart  and  held  it  there.  There  was 
a  louir  silence.  The  old  chief  watched  the  teacher's 
hand.  He  seemed  waiting  for  a  word  of  hope; 
but  Mr.  Mann  did  not  speak. 


THE  NEST  OP  THE  FISHING  EAGLE.         81 

Tho  old  chief  lifted  his  head  at  last,  and  said, 
appeal  iiigl J  : 

"  Boston  tilieuni,  you  do  not  know  how  I  feel ! 
You  do  not  know — the  birds  know — ijou  do  not 
know ! " 

The  teacher  rubljed  the  boy's  breast  and  arms, 
and  said  : 

"  lie  will  revive/' 

"  What,  Boston  tilieuni  \ " 

"  He  will  Iher 

"My  boy?" 

"  Yes." 

The  dark  face  brightened.  The  old  man  clasped 
the  boy's  hand  and  drew  it  to  his  breast.  The 
children  attempted  to  brush  the  earth  out  of  the 
young  hero's  dark,  matted  hair,  but  the  old  chief 
said,  mysteriously : 

"  No  touch  him  !  he  is  mine." 

At  last  a  convulsive  movement  passed  over  the 
boy's  body.  The  teacher  again  pressed  his  hand  on 
the  heart  of  his  pupil,  and  he  quickly  exclaimed  : 
"  It  beats." 

The  fiery  sun  gleamed  from  the  snowy  mountains. 
There  were  cool  murmurs  of  winds  in  the  trees,  and 
they  sent  forth  a  resinous  odor  into  the  air.  The 
balm  dropped  down  like  a  messenger  of  healing. 


82    THE  LOG  SCnOOL-noUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Presently  tlie  boy's  eyes  opened  and  gazed 
steadily  into  the  blue  air. 

The  eagles  were  wlieeling  about  the  trees.  The 
boy  watelied  them,  as  though  nothing  had  passed. 
They  were  making  narrowing  eircles,  and  at  last 
eaeli  ahghted  on  the  new  nest  beside  their  youjig. 

He  turned  his  face  slowly  toward  his  father. 

"  Saved  ! ''  lie  said.  "  They  are  hapi)y.  I  fell. 
Let's  go.'' 

He  rose  up.  As  he  did  so  the  male  eagle  rose 
from  his  nest  and,  uttering  a  glad  seream,  wheeled 
in  the  sky  and  made  his  way  through  Ihe  crimson 
haze  toward  tlie  fishing  gritunds  of  the  lower 
Columbia. 

The  chief's  eve  followed  him  for  a  time:  then 
the  old  man  turned  a  happy  face  on  the  schoolmas- 
ter and  children  and  said  : 

"  I  know  how  he  feels — the  Manitou  overhead 
— he  made  the  hearts  of  all ;  yours — the  birds — 
mine.     lie  is  glad  !  " 

There  was  something  beautiful  and  pathetic  in 


'i-^ 


P 


the  old  chief's  sense  of  the  connnon  heart  and  feel- 
ing of  all  conscious  beings.  The  very  eagles  seemed 
to  understand  it ;  and  Master  Mann,  as  he  turned 
away  from  the  school -house  that  day,  said  to 
Gretchen  : 


THE  NEST  OF  TUE   IMSIIING   EA(JLE.  83 

"  I  myself  nin  \)L'\\^J^  tiiu<^lit.  I  am  <:;lii(l  to  Icani 
all  this  large  life.  1  ho|)c  tjiat  yoii  will  (»ne  day 
l)cc'oinc  a  teacher." 

(ireteheii  went  home  that  afternoon  with  a  glad 
heart.  JJeiijauiin  did  not  return  to  the  seho(>l  again 
for  several  davs,  and  when  he  came  back  it  seemed 
to  be  with  a  sense  of  humiliation,  lie  seemed  to 
feel  somehow  that  he  ought  not  to  have  fallen  from 
the  tree. 

The  fourth  of  July  came,  and  blaster  ^Mann 
had  invited  the  school  to  come  togctlier  on  the 
holiday  for  patriotic  exercises.  lie  had  one  of  the 
pupils  read  the  Declaration  of  TucK'pendence  on 
the  occasion,  and  Gretchen  played  the  President's 
March  on  the  violin.  lie  himself  made  an  histori- 
cal address,  and  then  joined  in  some  games  out  of 
doors  under  the  trees. 

lie  brought  to  the  school-house  that  day  an  Amer- 
ican flag,  which  he  hung  over  the  desk  during  the  ex- 
ercises.    "When  the  school  went  out  to  ])lay  he  said  : 

"  I  wish  I  could  hang  the  flag  from  a  pole,  or 
from  the  top  of  one  of  the  trees." 

Benjamin's  face  brightened. 

"  I  will  go,"  he  said  ;  "  I  will  go  ?//?." 

"  Hang  it  on  the  eagle's  nest,"  said  one  of  the 
jmpils.     "  The  eagle  is  die  national  bird." 


84    TIIK  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOL'SK  ON.THK  COI.UMHIA. 

Mr.  Miinii  hiiw  that  to  kiis]K'ii(1  tlie  imtioiiiil  om- 
l)lcMii  from  the  t'Ugle'H  nest  would  l»o  u  juitriotic 
cpisodo  of  the  (lay,  and  liu  ^avo  the  Ihig  to  IJeiija- 
iiiin,  .saying  : 

"  IJeware  of  the  rotten  hmhs." 

"I  no  woman,"  said  IJenjamin;  and,  waving 
the  ilag,  lie  moved  like  a  s(|iiii-rel  up  the  trees.  Jle 
placed  the  Hag  on  the  nest,  while  the  eagles  wheeled 
around  him,  screaming  wildly.  He  descended 
safely,  and  nuide  the  incident  an  ol)ject  lesson,  as 
Mr.  Mann  rej)eated  the  ode  to  the  American  eagle, 
found  at  that  time  in  many  readlng-l)ooks. 

While  Mr.  Mann  was  doing  so,  and  had  reached 

the  line — 

"  Bird  of  Columbia,  well  art  thou,"  etc., 

one  of  the  eagles  swept  down  to  the  nest  and  seized 
the  hauTier  in  Ids  talons.  lie  rose  again  into  tlu; 
air  and  circled  high,  then  with  a  swift,  strong 
curve  of  the  wings,  came  down  to  the  nest  again, 
and,  seizing  the  Hag,  tore  it  from  the  nest  and  bore 
it  aloft  to  the  sky. 

It  was  a  beautiful  sight.  The  air  was  clear,  the 
far  peaks  were  sci-ene,  and  the  glaciers  of  ]\[onnt 
Hood  gleamed  like  a  glory  of  crystallized  light. 
The  children  cheered.  The  bird  soared  away  in  the 
blue  lieavens,  and  the  flag  streamed  after  him  in 


The  emjle  soared  itintij  in  the  liluv  fieaietiK,  und  tin  jlmi  4r<<iiiieil 
afttt   him  in  hi-'i  talons. 


TIJE  NEST  OP  THE  FISHING  EAGLE.  85 

his  talons.  lie  dropped  the  flag  at  last  over  a  dark, 
green  forest.     The  children  cheered  again. 

It  was  miles  away. 

"  I  go  And  it,"  said  Benjamin ;  and  he  darted 
away  from  the  place  and  was  not  seen  until  tlie 
next  day,  when  he  returned,  bringing  the  flag  with 
him. 

Marlowe  Mann  never  forgot  that  fourth  of 
July  on  the  Columbia. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    MOUNTAIN    LION. 

One  morning,  as  Mrs.  AVoods  sat  in  her  door 
picking  over  some  red  wliortleberries  wliicli  she 
had  gathered  in  the  timber  the  day  ])eforc,  a  yonng 
cow  came  running  into  the  yard,  as  if  for  i)rotec- 
tion.  Mrs.  Woods  started  up,  and  looked  in  tlie 
direction  from  which  the  animal  had  come  running, 
but  saw  notliing  to  cause  the  alarm. 

The  C(jw  looked  backward,  and  lowed.  Mrs. 
Woods  set  down  her  dish  of  red  berries,  took  her 
gun,  and  went  out  toward  the  tind)er  where  the 
cow  had  been  alarmed. 

There  was  on  the  edge  of  the  timber  a  large  fir 
that  the  shingle-maker  had  felled  when  he  first  built 
his  house  or  shack,  but  had  not  used,  owing  to  tlie 
hardness  of  the  grain.  It  lay  on  the  earth,  but  still 
connected  with  its  high  stump,  forming  a  kind  of 
natural  fence.  Around  it  were  beds  of  red  phlox, 
red  whortleberry  bushes,  and  wild  sunflowers. 


THE  MOUNTAIN  LION.  87 

The  horny  stump  and  fallen  tree  had  been  made 
very  interesting  to  Mrs.  Woods  in  her  uneventful 
life  by  a  white  squirrel  that  often  had  ai>])earod 
upon  it,  and  made  a  pretty  j)icture  as  it  sat  eating 
in  tlie  sun,  its  head  lialf  covered  with  its  bushy  tail. 
Wliite  squirrels  were  not  conimun  in  the  timber, 
and  this  was  the  only  one  that  Mrs.  "Woods  had 
ever  seen. 

"  I  wish  that  I  could  contrive  to  catch  that  there 
white  scpiirrel,"  she  said  to  Gretchen  one  day;  "it 
would  be  a  sight  of  company  for  me  when  you  are 
gone.  The  bear  used  me  mean,  but  I  kind  o'  like 
all  these  little  children  of  Natur'.  But  I  don't 
want  no  Injuns,  and  no  more  bears  unless  he  comes 
back  again.  The  schoolmaster  may  like  Injuns,  and 
you  may,  but  I  don't.  Think  how  I  lost  my  saw ; 
Injun  and  all  went  off  together.  I  can  seem  to 
see  him  now,  goin'." 

As  Mrs.  AYoods  drew  near  the  fallen  tree  she 
looked  for  the  white  squirrel,  which  was  not  to  be 
seen.  Suddenly  the  bushes  near  the  stump  moved, 
and  she  saw  the  most  evil-looking  animal  that  she 
had  ever  met  drawing  back  slowly  toward  the  fallen 
tree.  It  was  long,  and  seemed  to  move  more  like 
an  immense  serpent  than  an  animal.  It  had  a  cat- 
like face,  with  small  ears  and  s])iteful  eyes,  and  a 


88    THE  LOU  SCHOOL-HOUSE  OX  THE  COLUMIMA. 

half-open  mouth  displaying  a  red  tongue  and  sharp 
teeth.  Its  face  was  sly,  malicious,  cruel,  and  cow- 
ardly. It  seemed  to  be  such  an  animal  as  would 
attack  one  in  the  dark.  It  was  nuich  larjijer  than  a 
dog  or  connnon  black  bear. 

Mrs.  "Woods  raised  her  gun,  but  she  thought 
that  she  was  too  far  from  the  house  to  risk  an  en- 
counter with  so  powerful  an  animal.  So  she  drew 
back  slowly,  and  the  animal  did  the  same  defiantly. 
She  at  last  turned  and  ran  to  the  house. 

"Gretchen,"  she  said,  "what  do  you  tliiin.  I 
have  seen  ? " 

"  The  white  scjuirrel." 

"  Ko  ;  a  tiger ! " 

"  But  there  are  no  tigers  here ;  so  the  chief 
said." 

"  But  I  have  just  seen  one,  and  it  had  the  mean- 
est-looking face  that  I  ever  saw  on  any  living  creat- 
ure. It  was  all  snarls.  That  animal  is  dangerous. 
I  shall  be  almost  afraid  to  be  alone  now." 

"  I  shall  be  afraid  to  go  to  school." 

"  No,  Gretchen,  you  needn't  be  afraid.  Til  go 
with  you  mornin's  and  carry  the  gun.  I  like  to 
walk  mornin's  under  the  trees,  the  air  does  smell  so 
sweet." 

That  night,  just  as  the  last  low  tints  of  the  long 


THE  MOUNTAIN  LION.  89 

twilight  had  (lis}H)pc'iirt'd  and  tho  cool,  dowy  airs 
began  to  move  among  the  pines,  a  long,  deep,  fear- 
ful cry  \va8  heard  issuing  from  the  tind)er.  Mrs. 
"Woods  started  up  from  her  bed  and  called,  "  Gret- 
chen ! " 

The  girl  had  been  awakened  by  the  cry,  which 
might  have  been  that  of  a  child  of  a  giant  in  pain. 

"  Did  you  hear  that  ? "  asked  ^Irs.  Woods. 

"  Let's  get  uj)  and  go  out,"'  said  (4retchen. 

Presently  the  same  long,  clear,  i)itia])le  cry,  as  if 
some  giant  distress,  was  repeated. 

"  It  seems  human,"  said  Mrs.  "Woods.  "  It 
makes  me  want  to  know  what  it  is.  Yes,  let  us  get 
up  and  go  out." 

The  cry  was  indeed  pleading  and  magnetic.  It 
excited  pity  and  curiosity.  There  was  a  strange, 
mysterious  quality  about  it  that  drew  one  toward  it. 
It  was  repeated  a  third  time  and  then  ceased. 

There  was  a  family  by  the  name  of  Bonney  wIkj 
had  taken  a  donated  claim  some  miles  from  the 
Woodses  on  the  Columbia.  They  had  two  boys 
who  attended  the  school. 

Early  the  next  morning  one  of  these  boys, 
named  Arthur,  came  over  to  the  "Woodses  in  great 
distress,  with  a  fearful  story. 

"  Something,"  he  said,  "  has  killed  all  of   uur 


yU    THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMIHA. 

cattle.  Tliey  all  lie  dead  near  tlie  eleariIl^^  just  as 
though  they  were  asleep.  They  are  not  injured,  as 
we  can  see;  they  are  not  shot  or  hruised,  nor  do 
they  seem  to  be  poisoned — they  are  not  swelled — 
they  look  as  though  they  were  alive — hut  they  are 
cold — they  are  just  dead.  Did  you  hear  anything 
in  the  timber  last  night  (  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Woods.  "  Wasn't  it  mysteri- 
ous? Lost  your  cattle,  boy  ^  I  am  sorry  for  your 
folks.     IMabbie  {iVidy  be)  'tis  Injuns." 

"  Xo  ;  father  says  that  he  can  find  no  injury  on 
them." 

"  'Tis  awful  mysterious  like,"  said  Mrs.  Woods, 
"  cattle  dyin'  M-ithout  anything  ailin'  'em  !  Tve 
always  thought  this  was  a  irood  country,  but  I  don't 
know.  Tell  your  folks  I'm  sorry  for  'em.  Can  I 
do  anything  for  you  ?  I'll  come  oyer  and  see  ye  in 
the  course  of  the  day." 

That  night  the  same  strange,  ^vild,  pleading  cry 
was  repeated  in  the  tind^er. 

"  There's  something  yery  strange  about  that 
sound,"  said  Mrs.  Woods.  "It  makes  me  feel  as 
though  I  must  run  to^yard  it.  It  dra\ys  me.  It 
makes  me  feel  curi's.  It  has  haunted  me  all  day, 
and  now  it  comes  again." 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  the  cry  has  had  anything 


THE  MOUNTAIN  LION.  91 

to  do  witli  tlio  death  of  Mr.  TJoiincv's  cuttle?" 
asked  (Jivtclieii. 

"  I  don't  know — wo  don't  uiulerstand  tliis  conn- 
try  fully  yet.  There's  sonietliin<^  very  mysterious 
about  the  death  of  those  cattle.  You  ou;ij;ht  to  have 
seen  'em.  They  all  lie  there  dead,  as  though  they 
had  just  lost  their  hreath,  and  that  was  all." 

The  next  night  was  silent.  Rut,  on  the  follow- 
ing mt)rning,  a  hoy  came  to  the  school  with  a 
strange  story.  He  had  been  driving  home  his  fa- 
ther's cows  on  the  evening  before,  when  an  animal 
had  drop})ed  from  a  great  tree  on  the  neck  of  one 
of  the  cows,  which  struggled  and  lowed  for  a 
few  minutes,  then  fell,  and  was  found  di-ad.  The 
boy  and  the  other  cattle  had  run  away  on  tlie  sud- 
den appearance  of  the  animal.  The  dead  cow  ])re- 
sented  the  same  aj)i)earance  as  the  cows  of  ^Ir. 
Bonney  had  done, 

AVhen  the  old  chief  appeared  at  the  school- 
house  with  Benjamin  that  morning,  the  school 
gathered  around  him  and  asked  him  M'hat  these 
things  eonld  mean,  lie  re})lied,  in  broken  Chinook, 
that  there  was  a  puma  among  tliem,  and  that  this 
animal  sucked  the  blood  of  its  victims. 

The  piima  or  cougar  or  panther,  sometimes 
spelled  painter,  is  the  American  lion.     It  is  com- 


92    THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

monly  culled  the  inoimtiilii  lion  in  the  Northwest. 
It  l)el(»ii<^s  to  the  cat  faiuily,  and  received  the  luuno 
of  lion  from  its  tawny  color.  "When  its  appetite 
for  blood  has  been  satislied,  uiul  its  face  is  in  repose, 
it  is  a  very  beautiful  animal ;  but  M'hen  seeking  its 
prey  it  presents  a  mean,  cowardly,  etealthy  ajjpear- 
ance,  and  its  face  is  a  picture  of  cruelty  and  evil. 
It  will  destroy  as  many  as  fifty  sheep  in  a  night, 
sucking  their  blood  and  leaving  them  as  though 
they  had  died  without  any  external  injury.  This 
terrible  animal  is  easily  tamed  if  captured  young, 
and,  strange  to  say,  becomes  one  of  the  most  affec- 
tionate and  devoted  of  pets.  It  will  j)urr  about  the 
feet  and  lick  the  hands  of  its  master,  and  develop 
all  the  attractive  characteristics  of  the  domestic  cat. 

"  We  must  have  a  j^uma-hunt,"  said  the  chief, 
"  now — right  away." 

"  Not  to-day?  "  said  the  teacher. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  chief,  "  now — he  eat  your 
children.  Find  boy  dead  some  day,  just  like  cow. 
He  drop  down  from  a  tree  on  a  papoose.  Benja- 
min and  I  will  go  hunt." 

The  two  disappeared.  For  several  days  they 
did  not  return.  But,  one  nu)rning,  a  party  of 
Indians  in  hunting-gear  came  riding  up  to  the 
school-house,  full  of  gay  spirits  and  heroic  pride. 


4 


-'^-.f-i    ■■■:    ■^'i-'^- 


I 


I 


a 


THE   MOUNTAIN   LION.  93 

Behind  tlioin  mine  tlio  oM  cliicf  on  foot,  moving 
slowly,  art  though  tirud,  and  with  hini  was  Honja- 
niin. 

The  Indian  boy  had  a  hrown  skin  of  an  ani- 
mal on  his  nhoulder — a  raw  hide  with  very  beauti- 
ful fur. 

The  old  chief  came  into  the  Fchool-room  with 
an  air  of  ])ride,  and  stood  for  a  few  minutes  silent 
before  the  master.  His  face,  though  wrinkled,  was 
really  beautiful  and  noble,  in  the  light  of  the  happy 
intelligence  that  awaited  communication.  lie  at 
last  looked  each  pupil  in  the  face  and  then  said  : 

"  We  have  killed  the  puma.  School  no  fear 
now." 

He  took  the  skin  of  the  animal  from  Benja- 
min's shoulder,  and  held  it  up  before  the  eyes  of 
all. 

"Boston  tilicum,  who  killed  the  animal?"  he 
said. 

"  It  was  yon  ? "  asked  the  teacher. 

"  No — not  me,  not  me,  no  ! " 

"  The  l)rave8  ?  " 

"  Xo — not  the  ])'*aves.  Xo."  The  old  chief 
paused,  and  then  sai<l : 

"  Boston  tilicum,  it  was  Benjamin.  Treat  him 
well.     He  is  good  to  me — he  mean  well.     He  likes 


94    TIIK  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  TJIE  COLUMBIA. 

you— he  die  fur  you.  Tell  the  boys  it  was  Ben- 
jamin.'" 

lie  turned  away  t^lowly,  with  a  beariun;  of  pride. 
The  Indian  boy  gave  the  puma's  skin  to  the  master, 
and  took  his  seat  in  silence.  There  was  a  spirit 
in  the  strange  scene  that  Mas  touching,  and  the 
master's  lip  quivered  as  he  tot>k  the  old  chiefs 
hand  that  bright  morning,  as  a  i)arting  sign  of 
gratitude  and  good-will.  He  feh  the  innate 
brotlierhood  of  all  human  hearts,  and  returned  to 
his  desk  hap])y  in  his  calling  and  work  ;  and  seeing 
that  the  natural  rights  of  all  men  were  secured ; 
and  that  the  human  heart  has  the  same  imjudses 
everywhere,  as  he  had  never  seen  these  truths  be- 
fore. 

That  night  Gretchen  told  the  story  of  the 
puma  to  ]\Irs.  "Woods,  who  had  learned  the  leading 
incidents  of  it  in  the  afternoon  as  she  came  to 
meet  the  girl  in  the  trail,  on  the  way  from 
school. 


CHAPTER   VII. 


THE    SMOKE-TALK. 


One  day  in  Sopteiiiher  Mrs.  Woods  was  at 
work  in  lier  cabin,  and  Gretclien  was  at  school. 
Mrs.  Woods  was  trying  to  sing.  She  liad  a  liard, 
liarsli  voice  always,  and  the  tune  was  a  battle-cry. 
The  hymn  on  which  she  was  exercising  her  limited 
gifts  was  not  one  of  the  happy  tunes  of  Methodism, 
which  early  settlers  on  the  Columbia  loved  to  .^ing. 
It  was  a  very  censorious  rhyme  and  took  a  very 
do.-pondent  view  of  the  human  heart : 

"  The  pure  testimony  poured  forth  from  the  Spirit 
Cuts  like  a  two-edged  sword  ; 
And  hypocrites  now  are  most  sorely  toriiionted 
Because  they're  condenuied  by  the  Word." 

She  made  the  word  ''l\ypocrites"  ring  through  the 
solitary  lo<«:-cabin — she  seemed  to  have  the  view  that 
a  large  population  of  the  world  were  of  this  class  of 
people.  She  paused  in  her  singing  and  looked  out 
of  the  door. 


OC    THE  LOG  SCnOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  Tlu.'ri''s  one  lionest  woniiin  alive,"  she  re- 
marked to  herself.  "  Thank  Heaven,  /  never  yet 
feared  the  faee  of  elaj  !  " 

A  tall,  dark  form  met  her  eye — a  great  shadow 
in  the  seintillant  smdight.  It  was  an  aged  Indian, 
walidni::  witli  a  staff.  He  was  eomini;  toward  the 
cabin. 

"  Umatilla !  "  she  said.  "  AVhat  ean  he  want  of 
me  ? " 

The  old  ehief  approached,  and  bowed  and  sat 
down  on  a  log  that  answered  for  a  door-step. 

"I  walk  with  a  staff  now,"  he  said.  "My  bow 
has  drifted  away  on  the  tide  of  years — it  will  never 
come  back  again.     I  am  old." 

"  Yon  have  been  a  good  man,"  said  Mrs.  Woods, 
yielding  to  an  impidse  of  her  better  natnre.  She 
presently  added,  as  though  she  had  been  too  gener- 
ous, "  And  there  aren't  many  good  Injuns — nor 
wdiite  folks  either  for  that  matter." 

"  I  have  come  to  have  a  smoke-talk  with  you," 
said  the  old  chief,  taking  out  his  pipe  and  asking 
Mrs.  Woods  to  light  it.  "  Listen !  I  want  to  go  home. 
When  a  child  is  weary,  I  take  him  by  the  hand 
and  point  liim  to  the  smoke  of  his  wigwam.  He 
goes  home  and  sleeps.  I  am  weary.  The  Great 
Spirit  has  taken  me  by  the  hand ;  he  points  to  the 


TUE  SMOKE-TALK.  97 

smoke  of  the  wigwiiin.  Tliere  comes  a  time  wlieii 
all  want  to  go  home.  I  want  to  go  home.  l"ma- 
tilla  is  going  home.     I  have  not  spoken.'' 

The  smoke  from  his  pipe  curled  over  his  white 
liead  in  the  pure,  clear  Septcmher  air.  lie  was 
eighty  or  more  }'ears  of  age.  lie  had  heard  the 
traditions  of  Juaji  de  Fura,  the  Greek  pilot,  who 
left  his  name  on  the  straits  of  the  PuL;;et  Sea.  He 
had  heard  of  the  coming  of  Vancouver  in  his  hov- 
hood,  the  English  explorer  who  named  the  seas 
and  mountains  for  his  lieutenants  and  friends, 
Puget,  Baker,  lianier,  and  Townscnd.  He  had 
known  the  forest  lords  of  the  Hudson  ]5av  Com- 
pany, and  of  Astoria;  had  seen  the  sail  of  Gray  as 
it  entered  the  Columhia,  and  liad  heard  the  ])reach- 
ing  of  Jason  Lee.  The  nmrder  of  AVhitman  had 
caused  him  real  sorrow.  Umatilla  was  a  man  of 
peace.  lie  had  loved  to  travel  np  and  d(»wn  the 
Colund)ia,  and  visit  the  great  bluffs  of  the  l*uget 
Sea.  lie  lived  for  a  generation  at  peace  Avith  all 
the  tribes,  and  now  that  he  was  old  he  was  -vipner- 
ated  by  them  all. 

"  You  are  a  good  old  Injun,"  said  IMrs.  "Woods, 
yielding  to  her  better  self  again.  "  I  don't  say  it 
about  many  people.  I  do  think  you  have  doire 
your  best — considering." 


1)8    THE  LOO  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  I  am  ii(»t  "vvliat  I  want  to  be,"  paid  Uiiuitllla. 
"  It  is  what  we  want  to  be  that  we  sliall  be  one  (hiy ; 
don't  you  think  so?  The  Great  Si>irit  is  going  to 
make  me  wliat  I  want  to  be — he  will  make  us  all 
wliat  we  \vant  to  be.  My  desires  are  better  than  I 
— I  will  be  my  desires  by  and  by.  My  stafl  is  in 
my  hand,  and  I  am  going  home.  The  old  warriors 
liave  gone  home.  They  were  thick  as  the  flowers  of 
the  field,  thick  as  the  stars  of  the  night.  Mj  Ixjys 
are  gone  home  —  they  were  swift  as  the  hawks 
in  the  air.  l>en jamin  is  left  to  the  Umatillas.  lie 
is  no  butcher-bird  ;  no  forked  tongue — he  will  re- 
member the  shade  of  his  father.  My  heart  is 
in  his  heart.  I  am  going  home.  I  have  fiot 
spoken." 

He  puffed  his  ])ipe  again,  and  watched  an  eagle 
skimming  along  on  the  great  over-sea  of  September 
gold.  The  Indian  language  is  always  pictures(pic, 
and  deals  in  synd)ols  and  figures  of  speech.  It  is 
j)icture-speaking.  The  Indians  are  all  ])(^ets  in 
their  imaginations,  like  children.  This  habit  of 
personification  grows  in  the  Indian  mind  with  ad- 
vancing years.  Every  old  Indian  speaks  in  poetic 
figures.  Umatilla  had  not  yet  "  spoken,"  as  he 
said  ;  he  had  been  talking  in  figures,  and  merely 
approaching  his  subject. 


Tilt:  SMOKE-TALK.  0<) 

There  was  a  K)ii<^  pause.  lie  tlien  laid  duwii 
liis  pipe.     He  was  alK»iit  to  speak  : 

"  AV^onian,  opvn  your  ears.  The  Great  Spirit 
lives  in  w<»iueii,  and  ohl  people,  and  little  children. 
He  loves  the  smoke  of  the  wigwam,  and  the  green 
fields  of  the  flowers,  and  the  hlue  gardens  of  stars. 
And  he  loves  music — it  is  his  voice,  the  whis2)er  of 
the  soul. 

"He  spoke  in  the  pine-tops,  on  tlie  lips  of  the 
seas,  in  the  shell,  in  the  reed  and  the  war-drum. 
Then  s/te  came.  He  sj)eaks  through  /wr.  I  want 
/icr  to  speak  for  me.  My  people  are  angry.  There 
are  hutcher-hirds  among  them.  They  hate  you — 
they  hate  the  cabin  of  the  Mhite  man.  The  white 
men  tid<e  away  their  room,  overthrow  their  forests, 
kill  their  deer.     There  is  danger  in  the  air. 

"  The  October  moon  will  come.  It  will  grow. 
It  will  turn  into  a  sun  on  the  border  of  the  night. 
Then  come  Potlatch.  My  ])eople  ask  for  the  Dance 
of  the  Evil  One.     I  no  consent — it  means  graves. 

"Let  mc  have  /wr  a  moon — she  play  on  the  air. 
She  play  at  the  Potlatch  for  me.  She  stand  by  my 
side.  The  Great  Spirit  speak  through  lier.  Indi- 
ans listen.  They  will  think  of  little  ones,  they  will 
think  (»f  departed  ones,  they  will  think  of  the  hunt 
— they  will  see  graves.     Then  the  night  will  pass. 


loo  TlIK  LUG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THH  COLUMBIA. 

Then  tlic  smoke  \vill  rise  ii<:,-iiiii  from  v.liite  man's 
euhin.  Then  I  die  in  peace,  and  go  home  to  tlie 
(treat  Spirit  and  rest.  AVill  you  let  me  liave  her? 
I  have  spoken." 

Mrs.  AVoods  comprehended  the  tigvirative  speech. 
Tlie  old  chief  wished  to  take  (Jretchen  to  his  wiif- 
warn  for  a  month,  and  have  her  play  the  violin  on 
the  great  night  of  the  Potlatch.  lie  hoped  that 
the  influence  of  the  music  would  aid  him  in  pre- 
venting the  Dance  of  the  Evil  S^jirits,  and  a  massa- 
cre of  the  white  settlers.     AVhat  should  she  say? 

"  I  will  talk  with  (Jretchen,"  she  said.  "  You 
mean  well.     I  can  trust  you.     AVe  will  see." 

lie  rose  slowly,  leaning  on  his  staff,  and  emptied 
his  ])i])e.  It  re(piired  a  resolute  will  now  to  cause 
his  withered  limhs  to  move.  But  his  steps  became 
free  after  a  little  walking,  and  he  moved  slowly 
away.  Poor  old  chief  of  the  Cascades !  It  was 
something  like  another  Sennon  on  the  Mount 
that  he  had  spoken,  but  he  knew  not  how  close- 
ly his  heart  had  caught  the  spirit  of  the  Divine 
Teacher. 

When  Gretchen  came  home  from  school,  Mrs. 
Woods  told  her  what  had  hap])ened,  and  what  the 
old  chief  had  asked. 

Mr.  Woods  had  returned  from  the  block-houses. 


THE  SMOKE-TALK.  lol 

lie  m'n\:  "' (iretclieii,  go!  Your  Traumenl  will 
HJivo  tlio  c;oloiiy.     Go  !  " 

Gretchcn  nut  in  silence  for  a  moment.  She  then 
said  :  "  I  can  trust  Umatilla.  I  will  go.  I  want  to 
go.  Something  unseen  is  leading  me — I  feel  it.  I 
do  not  know  the  way,  but  I  can  trust  my  guide. 
I  have  only  one  desire,  if  I  am  young,  and  that 
is  to  do  right.  But  is  it  right  to  leave  you, 
mother  V 

'"brother!"  how  sweet  that  word  sounded  to 
])oor  Mrs.  Woods !  She  had  never  been  a  mother. 
Tears  filled  her  eyes — she  forced  them  back. 

"  Yes,  Gretchen — go.  I've  always  had  to  fight 
my  way  through  the  world,  and  I  can  continue  to 
do  so.  I've  had  some  things  to  harden  my  heart ; 
but,  no  matter  what  you  may  do,  Gretchen,  I'll 
always  be  a  mother  to  yoit.  You'll  always  find  the 
latch-string  on  the  outside.  You  ain't  the  wust 
girl  that  ever  was,  if  I  did  have  a  hand  in  bringing 
you  up.     Yes — go." 

"Your  heart  is  right  now,"  said  Gretchen;  "and 
I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  llenjamin.  He  told 
me  a  few  days  ago  that  he  hated  you,  but  that  no 
one  should  ever  harm  you,  because  he  loved  the 
Master." 

"  He  did,  did  he  ? "  said  Mrs.  AYoods,  starting 


102  THE  LOG  SCIIOOIj-IIOUSK  CN  TIII^  COLUMBIA. 

up.  "  Well,  I  liJito  him,  ami  I'll  never  forgive  liiin 
fur  telliii'  ym  guch  a  tliiii<^  as  that." 

"  But,  inv>the'*,  don't  you  love  t/ie  Master,  and 
won't  you  be  friendly  and  forij^iving  to  llenjaniin, 
for  /tin  sake?  1  wish  you  would.  It  would  give 
you  ]H)wer  ;  I  want  you  to  do  so." 

"  ril  think  about  it,  Gretchen.  I  don't  feel 
quite  right  about  these  things,  and  I'm  goin'  to 
have  a  good  talk  with  Fatlier  Lee.  The  boy  has 
some  good  in  him.'' 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  him  that." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Sympathy  makes  one  grow  so." 

"That's  so,  (Tretchen.  Only  praise  a  dog  for 
his  one  good  (piality,  and  it  will  make  a  good  dog  of 
him.  I  'spect  'tis  the  same  with  folks.  But  my 
nature  don't  break  up  easy.  I  shall  come  out  right 
some  time.  I  tell  you  I'm  goin'  to  have  a  talk  with 
Father  Lee.  It  is  his  preachin'  that  has  made  me 
what  I  am,  and  may  be  I'll  be  better  by  and  by." 

Mrs.  AVoods,  with  all  her  affected  courage,  had 
good  reason  to  fear  an  Indian  outbreak,  and  to  use 
every  influence  to  prevent  it.  The  very  mention 
of  the  Potlatch  filled  her  with  recent  terror.  She 
well  knew  the  story  of  the  destruction  of  AVhitman 
and  a  part  of  his  missionary  colony. 


THE  SMOKE-TALK.  103 

That  was  a  torril)le  event,  and  it  was  a  seene 
like  tlmt  that  tlio  new  settlers  feared,  at  the  aj)- 
])r()aehing  Potlatch;  and  the  th(»n<i,ht  of  that  dread- 
ful day  almost  weakened  the  faith  c»f  ^[r.  Mann  in 
the  Indians. 

AVe  must  tell  you  the  old-time  history  of  the 
trairedy  which  was  now  revived  in  the  new  settle- 
ment. 

TUE  COXJUliED  MELOyS. 

Mot  people  who  like  history  are  familiar  with 
the  national  storv  of  IVFarcus  AVliitman's  "liide 
for  Oregon"* — that  dariniii:  horseback  trip  aeross 
the  continent,  from  the  Columbia  to  the  IVfissouri, 
which  enabled  him  to  convince  the  Ignited  States 
Government  not  only  that  Oregon  could  be 
reached,  but  that  it  was  worth  possessing.  Exact 
liistory  has  robbed  this  story  of  some  of  its  ro- 
mance, but  it  is  still  one  of  the  noblest  wonder- 
tales  of  our  own  or  any  nation.  ]\[(^numents  and 
poetry  and  art  must  forever  perpetuate  it,  for  it  is 
full  of  spiritual  meaning. 

Lovers  of  missionary  lore  have  read  with  delight 
the  ideal  romance  of  the  two  brides  who  agreed  to 
cross  the  Kocky  ]\rountains   with    their  husbands, 

*See  Historical  Notes. 


H)4  TIIK  IA)V,  SCIIUOL-IIOUSK  ON  TIIK  COM'MIJIA. 

AVliitJimii  uud  S[)iiul(liii^  ;  liow  oiio  of  tlicin  wm^', 
in  the  littlo  country  cliurch  on  «lL'i)urtin<^,  tlio  whole 
<»f  tho  liynin — 

"  Yo8,  my  nutivo  laiul,  I  lovo  thoo," 
wlicn  the  voices  of  others  failed  from  emotion. 
They  luive  rend  how  the  whole  J^irty  knelt  down 
on  the  (ireut  Divide,  l)esi(le  the  open  Uihle  and 
nnder  the  Americiin  Ihij^,  and  took  j)ossession  of 
the  great  empire  of  the  Northwest  in  faith  and  in 
imagination,  and  how  history  fuliilled  tlie  dream. 

At  tlie  time  of  the  coming  of  the  missionaries 
the  Cayuse  Indians  and  Nez-Perees  occupied  the 
elhow  of  the  (yolumhiu,  and  tlie  region  of  the  musi- 
cal names  of  the  Wallula,  the  AValla  AValla,  and 
Waiilaptu.  They  were  a  superstitious,  fierce,  and 
revengful  race.  They  fully  believed  in  witchcraft 
or  conjuring,  and  in  the  power  to  work  evil 
through  familiar  spirits.  Everything  to  them  and 
the  neighboring  tribes  had  its  good  or  evil  sj^irit, 
or  both — the  mountains,  tlie  rivers,  the  forest,  the 
sighing  cedars,  and  the  whispering  firs. 

The  great  plague  of  the  tribes  on  tlie  middle 
Columbia  was  the  measles.  The  disease  was  com- 
monly fatal  among  them,  owing  largely  to  the  man- 
ner of  treatment.  When  an  Indian  began  to  show 
the  fever  which  is  characteristic  of  the  disease,  he 


TIIK  SMt»Ki:-TALK.  105 

waa  put  into  aiul  iiiclosctl  in  a  liot  clay  oven.  Ah 
Boon  as  lie  wa.s  covltimI  with  a  |)r<»t'ii>t'  jK'is|iirii- 
ti(>n  lie  was  let  out,  to  K-ap  int(»  the  cold  waters  df 
tlie  C«>luiiil»ia.  I'snally  the  pluii<j;e  was  fuilowiMl 
hy  death. 

There  was  a  rule  aniou<jr  these  Indians,  in  early 
times,  that  if  the  "  niedieine-niaii  "  undertook  a  (•a>e 
and  failed  to  cure,  he  forfeited  his  «»wn  life.  The 
killiiii^  of  the  inedicine-inan  was  one  of  thi'  (Iramatic 
and  fearful  e])is(»(les  of  the  Columbia. 

Keturninix  from  tlie  Kast  after  his  famous  ri<le, 
"Whitman  huilt  up  a  nohle  missi(»ii  stati(»n  at 
AVaului)tu.  lie  was  '\  man  of  stron<^  character, 
and  of  tine  tastes  and  ideals.  The  mission-house 
was  an  imposinjjj  structure  for  the  place  ajid  time. 
It  had  heautiful  trees  and  jj::ardens,  and  inspirin<^ 
surround  iufji^s. 

^Irs.  "Whitman  was  a  remarkable  wonian,  as  in- 
telliijent  ajul  sympathetic  as  she  was  lieroic.  The 
colony  became  a  prosperous  one,  and  for  a  time 
occupied  the  happy  valley  of  the  AVest. 

One  of  the  vices  of  the  TWuse  Indians  and 
their  neighbors  was  stealin*;.  The  mission  station 
may  have  overawed  them  for  a  time  into  seeniini; 
lionesty,  but  they  bei!;an  to  rol)  its  gardens  at  last. 
and  out  of  this  circumstance  comes  a  story,  related 


KM]  THK  LOU  SCIlOOL-irorsK  ON  TIIH  COMMIMA. 

t<»  luu  hy  nil  old  Territoriiil  otlicer,  wliicli  uniy  ho 
new  to  iiu>st  ruadiTs.  I  do  not  vouch  for  it,  hut 
only  Huy  that  thu  niuTutor  of  the  i)rinc'iiml  incidents 
is  un  (dd  Territorial  jud^'e  who  lives  near  the  jdaco 
of  the  Whitnum  tni;<c<ly,  and  who  knew  many  of 
the  Kurvivorri,  and  lias  a  iarjjc  knowlcd-rc  <d'  the 
In(Han  races  of  the  Colundda.  To  ids  statements 
I  add  some  incidents  of  another  pioneer: 

"Tlic  thieving'  Cayuses  have  made  'way  with 
our  melons  apiiii,"  said  a  yon n;;  f aimer  one  morn- 
ing', returning  from  tlie  gardens  (d"  the  station. 
*' One  theft  will  he  followed  hy  another.  I  know 
the  Cayuses.     Is  there  no  way  to  stop  them  V 

One  of  the  missionary  fraternity  was  sitting 
quietly  among  the  trees.  It  was  an  Angnst  morn- 
ing. The  air  was  a  living  splendor,  clear  and 
warm,  with  now  and  then  a  breeze  that  rii)])led  the 
leaves  like  the  waves  of  the  sea. 

lie  looked  up  from  his  hook,  and  considered  the 
question  half-seriously,  half-hnmorously. 

"I  know  how  we  used  to  jn-event  hoys  from 
stealing  melons  in  the  East,"  said  he. 

"How?" 

"  Put  some  tartar  emetic  in  the  hiirirest  one.  In 
the  morning  it  wonld  he  gone,  hut  the  boys  would 
never  come  after  any  more  melons." 


TllK  SMOKK-TALK.  107 

Tlu'  young  fiu'uiL'r  imderstood  tlio  ivmoUy,  ami 
liiuglu'd. 

"  And,"  addt'd  .0, ''tlio  1m»vs  didn't  Imve  nuich 
to  my  ul)out  niolon.s  after  tlioy  liad  nitt-n  t/i<tf  one. 
The  Hultjoct  IK*  loiiiiii'r  intorestod  tlieni.  I  guess  tlie 
Indians  would  not  care  for  more  than  one  melon  ot" 
that  kind.'' 

"I  would  like  to  see  a  wah-wah  of  Indian 
thieves  over  a  melon  like  that !  "  said  the  gartlener. 
"  I  declare,  I  and  the  hovs  will  do  it ! " 

Ho  went  to  his  work,  laughing.  That  day  he 
o1)tained  some  of  the  emetic  from  the  medical  stores 
of  the  station,  and  i)higge<l  it  int(»  three  or  four  of 
the  finest  melons.  Next  morning  he  found  that 
these  melons  were  gone. 

The  following  evening  a  tall  Indian  came  slowly 
and  solemidy  to  the  station.  His  face  had  a  troub- 
led look,  and  there  was  an  air  of  mystery  about 
lufl  gait  and  attitude.  He  sto})ped  before  one  of 
the  assistant  missionaries,  drew  together  his  blanket, 
and  said : 

''  Some  one  liere  no  goot.  You  keep  a  con- 
jurer in  the  camp.  Indian  kill  conjurer.  Conjurer 
ought  die;  him  danger,  him  no  goot." 

The  laborers  gathered  round  the  stately  Indian. 
They  all  knew  about  the  nauseating  melons,  and 


108  THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

^uossed  why  ho  luu'.  come.  All  laughed  us  they 
heard  liis  isoleiiin  words.  The  ridicule  incensed 
liini. 

''  You  one  conjurer,"  lie  said,  ''he  conjure  mel- 
ons.    One  nu)on,  two  moons,  he  shall  die." 

The  laborers  laughed  again. 

''  Half  moon,  nu^re  moons,  he  shall  suiTer — half 
moon,  more  moons,"  that  is,  sooner  or  later. 

The  missionary's  face  grew  serious.  The  tall 
Indian  saw  the  change  of  expression. 

"  Braves  sick."  lie  spread  out  his  blanket  and 
folded  it  again  like  wings.  "  Braves  double  up  iSy>  " 
— he  bent  over,  ojoening  and  folding  his  blanket. 
"Braves  conjured;  melon  conjured — white  man 
conjure.     Indian  kill  him." 

There  was  a  puzzled  look  <»n  all  faces. 

"  Braves  get  well  again,"  said  the  missionary,  in- 
cautiously. 

"  Then  you  Z7?o?r,"  said  the  Indian.  "  You 
know — vou  coniure.     ]\rake  sick — make  well  I  " 

lie  drew  his  blanket  again  around  him  and 
strode  away  M'itli  an  injured  look  in  his  face,  and 
vanished  into  the  forests. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  this  joke,"  said  the  missionary  ; 
"  it  bodes  no  good." 

Xovember  came.     The  nights  were  long,   and 


THE  SMOKE-TALK.  IQO 

there  was  a  perceptible  coolness  in  the  air,  even  in 
this  cliniiite  of  Aj)ril  days. 

Joe  Stantield,  a  half-breed  Canadian  and  a  mem- 
ber of  AVliitniairs  family,  was  observed  to  spend 
many  of  the  lengthenin«j;  evenini^s  with  the  Ca- 
yuses  in  their  lodges,  lie  had  been  given  a  home 
by  "Whitman,  to  whom  he  had  seemed  for  a  time 
devoted. 

Joe  Lewis,  an  Indian  who  had  come  to  AVhit- 
man  sick  and  half-elad,  and  had  received  shelter 
and  work  from  him,  seems  to  have  been  on  intimate 
terms  with  Staniield,  and  the  two  l)eeame  bitter 
enemies  to  the  mission  and  sought  to  turn  the  Ca- 
yuses  against  it,  contrary  to  all  the  traditions  of  In- 
dian gratitude. 

In  these  bright  autumn  days  of  184-7  a  great 
calamity  fell  upon  the  Indians  of  the  Columbia. 
It  was  the  plague.  This  disease  was  the  terror 
of  the  Northwestern  tribes.  The  Cayuses  caught 
the  infecti(m.  Many  sickened  and  died,  and  Whit- 
man was  appealed  to  by  the  leading  Indians  to  stay 
the  disease.  lie  undertook  the  treatment  of  a  num- 
ber of  cases,  but  his  patients  died. 

The  hunter's  moon  was  now  burning  k)W  in  the 
skv.  The  o;atherinf>:  of  rich  harvests  of  furs  had 
begun,  and  British  and  American  fur-traders  were 


110  THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

seeking  these  treasures  on  every  hand.  But  at  the 
beginning  of  these  liarvests  tlie  Cajuses  were  sick- 
ening and  dying,  and  the  mission  was  powerless  to 
stay  tlie  pestilence. 

A  secret  council  of  Cayuses  and  lialf-brecds  was 
lield  one  night  under  the  hunter's  moon  near  AValla 
AValla,  or  else  on  the  Umatilla.  Five  Crows,  the 
warrior,  Avas  there  with  Joe  Lewis,  of  Whitman's 
household,  and  Joe  Stanlield,  alike  susjiicious  and 
treacherous,  and  old  Mungo,  the  interpreter.  Sit- 
kas,  a  leading  Indian,  may  have  been  present,  as  the 
story  I  am  to  give  came  in  part  from  him. 

Joe  Lewis  was  the  principal  speaker.  Address- 
ing the  Cayuses,  he  said  : 

"  The  moon  brightens ;  your  tents  fill  with  furs. 
But  Death,  the  robber,  is  among  you.  Who  sends 
Death  among  you  ?  The  White  Chief  (Whitman). 
And  why  does  the  White  Chief  send  among  you 
Death,  the  robber,  with  his  poison  ?  That  he  may 
possess  your  furs." 

"  Then  why  do  the  white  people  themselves 
have  the  disease  ? "  asked  a  Cayuse. 

Kone  could  answer.  The  question  had  turned 
Joe  Lewis's  word  against  him,  when  a  tall  Indian 
arose  and  spread  his  blanket  open  like  a  wing.  He 
stood  for  a  time  silent,  statuesque,  and  thoughtful. 


THE  SMOKE-TALK.  m 

The  men  waited  seriously  to  lietir  what  he  would 
say. 

It  was  the  same  Indian  who  had  a})|)eared  at 
the  mission  after  the  joke  of  the  ])lugged  melons. 

"  Brothers,  listen.  The  missionaries  are  eon^ 
jurers.  They  conjured  the  melons  at  AVaiilaptu. 
They  made  the  melons  siek.  I  went  to  missionary 
chief.  He  sav,  '  I  make  the  melons  well.'  I  leave 
the  braves  sick,  with  their  faces  turned  white, 
when  I  go  to  the  chief.  I  return,  and  they  are 
well  again.  The  missi(jnaries  conjure  the  melons, 
to  save  their  gardens.  They  conjure  you  now,  to 
get  your  furs." 

The  evidence  was  conclusive  to  the  Cavuse 
mind.  The  missionaries  Avere  conjurers.  The 
comicil  resolved  that  all  the  medicine-men  in  the 
comitry  should  be  put  to  death,  and  among  the 
first  to  perish  v'^hould  be  "Whitman,  the  conjurer. 

Such  in  effect  was  the  result  of  the  secret  coun- 
cil or  councils  held  around  Waiilaptu. 

"Whitman  felt  the  change  that  had  come  over 
the  disposition  of  the  tribes,  but  he  did  not  know 
what  was  hidden  behind  the  dark  curtain.  His 
great  soul  was  full  of  patriotic  fire,  of  love  t(»  all 
men,  and  zeal  for  the  gospel. 

He   was    nothing    to   himself — the    cause   was 


112  TlIK  LOO  SCIlOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLU.MUIA. 

everything.  lie  rode  liitlier  tiiid  tliitlier  on  the 
autuniii  days  and  bright  nights,  engjiged  in  his 
great  \V(jrk. 

He  went  to  Oregon  City  for  supplies. 

"  Mr.  MeKinley,"  he  said  to.  a  friend,  '*  a  Ca- 
yuse  cliief  has  told  me  that  the  Indians  are  al»ont  to 
kill  all  the  niedicine-nien,  and  myself  among  them. 
I  think  he  was  jesting." 

"  Dr.  Whitman,"  said  MeKinley,  "  a  Cayuse 
chief  never  jests." 

He  was  right.  The  fateful  days  wore  on.  The 
splendid  nights  glimmered  over  ]\Iount  Hood,  and 
glistened  on  the  serrated  mountain  tents  of  eternal 
snow.  The  Indians  continue  to  sicken  and  die, 
and  the  imiversal  suspicion  of  the  tribes  fell  upon 
Whitman. 

Suddeidy  there  was  a  war-cry !  The  mission 
ran  with  l)l()od.  Whitman  and  his  wife  were  the 
first  to  fall.  Then  horror  succeeded  horror,  and 
many  of  the  heroic  pioneers  of  the  Columbia  River 
perished. 

"  The  Jesuits  have  been  accused  of  causing  the 
murder  of  Whitman,"  said  one  historian  of  Wash- 
ington to  me.  "  They  indignantly  deny  it.  I  have 
studied  the  whole  subject  for  years  with  this  opin- 
ion, that  the  Indian  outbreak  and  its  tragedies  had 


THE  SMOKE-TALK.  113 

its  origin,  and  liirgoly  gatliorcMl  its  force,  from  tlie 
terrible  joke  of  tlie  conjured  nieloiif^. 

'•  Tliat  was  the  evidence  that  must  liave  served 
greatly  to  turn  the  Indian  mind  against  one  of  tlie 
hravest  men  that  America  has  produced,  and  whose 
name  will  stand  immortal  among  the  heroes  of 
Washinijton  and  Oreijjon." 

I  n;ive  this  account  as  a  local  storv,  and  not  as 
exact  history;  but  this  tradition  was  believed  by 
the  old  people  in  Washington. 

When  any  one  in  the  new  settlement  spoke  of 
the  Potlatch,  this  scene  came  up  like  a  shadow. 
Would  it  be  repeated  'i 


C'ilAPTEK  VIII. 


THE   ]{LACK    eagle's    NEST. 


In  the  log  seliool-liousc,  Lewis  and  Clarke''s  Ex- 
pedition was  used  as  a  reading-book.  Master  Mann 
liad  adopted  it  becanse  it  was  easy  to  obtain,  antl 
served  as  a  sort  of  local  geography  and  history. 

In  this  book  is  an  aeconnt  of  a  great  black 
eagle's  nest,  on  the  Falls  of  the  Missouri  ;  and  the 
incident  seemed  intensely  to  interest  the  pictur- 
es(pie  mind  of  Benjamin. 

"  Let  ns  go  see,"  said  Benjamin,  one  day  after 
this  poetic  part  of  Lewis  and  Clarke's  narrative  had 
been  read. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  ]\Ir.  IMann. 

"  I  carry  canoe,  and  we  go  and  find  him  !  " 

"A\niat?" 

"  The  black  eagle's  nest." 

"Why?" 

"  I'll  get  a  plume — wear  it  here.  Please  father. 
I  love  to  please  father." 


THE   BLACK  EAGLK'S  NEST,  115 

There  was  to  be  a  few  weeks'  vacation  in  a  part 
of  Se[)teinl»er  and  October,  and  Uen janiin's  siig<;c8- 
tion  led  Mr.  ^lann  to  plan  an  excursion  to  the 
Falls  of  the  ^lissouri  at  that  time.  The  old  chief 
would  be  glad  to  have  Ik-njamin  go  with  him  and 
lielp  hunt,  and  carry  the  canoe.  They  would  fol- 
low the  Salmon  Iviver  out  of  the  Columbia,  to  a 
point  near  the  then  called  JelTerson  IJiver,  and  so 
pass  the  mountains,  and  launch  themselves  on  the 
Missouri,  whence  the  way  would  l)e  easy  to  the 
Falls. 

The  dream  of  u."  expedition  seemed  to  make 
Benjamin  perfectly  happy.  He  had  already  been 
over  a  part  of  this  territory,  with  his  father,  on  a 
visit  to  the  friendly  tribes. 

The  mid-autumn  in  the  valleys  of  the  rolund)ia 
and  Missouri  Elvers  is  serene,  and  yet  kindles,  with 
a  sort  of  fiery  splendor.  The  perfect  days  of 
America  are  here. 

Master  ISIann  and  'Renjamin  started  on  their 
expedition  with  a  few  Indians,  who  M'ere  to  see 
them  to  the  Jefferson  Iliver  and  there  leave 
them. 

The  Yankee  schoohnaster  had  a  prophetic  soul, 

and  he  felt  that  he  was  treading  the  territory  of 

future  empires. 
8 


116  THY.  LOO  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMRIA. 

Liiuiu'lic'd  oil  tlic  ^Missouri,  tlio  thouglit  of  wliut 
tilt'  vast  plains  niiijht  heconic  itvcrwlieliiied  liim  ut 
times,  ancl  lie  would  lie  silent  in  his  boat,  and  pray 
and  dream. 

The  soul  of  the  Indian  boy  seemed  as  bright  as 
the  golden  air  of  the  cloudless  days,  during  most  of 
the  time  <»n  the  Salmon  River,  and  while  passing 
through  the  mountains.  But  he  would  sometimes 
start  up  suddenly,  and  a  shade  would  settle  on  his 
face. 

Master  IVFauTi  noticed  these  sudden  changes  of 
mood,  and  he  once  said  to  him  : 

"What  makes  you  turn  sad,  Benjamin?" 

"  Potlatch." 

"  But  that  is  a  dance." 

"  Hawks." 

"  I  think  not,  r>en  jamin  !  " 

"  You  do  not  know.  They  have' a  hitter  heart. 
My  father  does  not  sleep.  It  is  you  that  keeps 
liim  awake.  He  loves  you  ;  you  love  nie  and  treat 
me  well  ;  he  loves  you,  and  want  to  treat  you 
well — see.  She  make  trouble.  Indians  meet  at 
night — talk  bitter.  Thev  own  the  land.  Thev 
liave  rights.  They  threaten.  Father  no  sleep. 
Sorry." 


THE   BLACK  EAOLF/S  NEvST.  117 

THE   FALLS   OF  THE  MlSSOrUI. 

Tlie  Falls  (if  the  Missouri  arc  not  only  wonder- 
ful and  beautiful,  but  they  abound  with  jj^rand  tra- 
ditions. Hefore  we  follow  our  y»»ung  explorer  to 
the  plaee,  let  us  give  you,  good  reader,  some  views 
of  tliis  part  of  i\I(»ntana  as  it  was  and  as  it  now 
ai)j)ears. 

AVc  reeently  looked  out  on  the  i>land  that  once 
lifted  the  great  black  eagle's  nest  over  the  j)hing- 
ing  torrent  of  water— the  nest  fannnis,  doubtless, 
among  the  Indians,  long  before  the  days  of  J.ewis 
and  Clarke. 

We  were  shown,  in  the  eity  of  Great  Falls,  a 
mounted  eagle,  which,  it  was  claimed,  came  from 
this  nest  amid  the  mists  an<l  rainbows.  The  fall 
near  tliis  island,  in  the  surges,  is  now  known  as  the 
Black  Eagle's  Fall. 

This  waterfall  ha>  not  the  beauty  or  the  grand- 
eur of  the  other  cataracts — the  lIaini)ow  Falls  and 
the  Great  Falls  —  a  few  miles  distant.  r>ut  it 
gathers  the  spell  of  poetic  tradition  about  it,  and 
strongly  appeals  to  the  sense  of  the  iirtist  and 
the  poet.  The  romancer  w(udd  choose  it  for 
his  w^ork,  as  the  black  eagles  chose  it  for  their 
liome. 


118  THE  LOa  SCIIOOr.-IIOUSE  ox  THK  COLrMIJIA. 

Near  it  is  oiio  of  tho  most  lovely  foimtiiiiirt  in  tho 
world,  C'ulk'd  tin;  (iiiiiit  Spriii*^. 

"  Closo  Inwido  tho  groat  Missouri, 
Ere  it  tttkos  its  sooond  loap, 
Is  u  spring  of  sparkling  water 
liiko  u  rivor  broad  and  doop." 

Tho  spring  pours  out  of  the  eurtli  near  the  fall  in 
a  great  natural  fountain,  emerakl-green,  elear  as 
erystal,  bordered  with  water-cresses,  ami  mingles  its 
waters  with  the  clouded  surges  of  the  Missouri.  If 
a  person  looks  down  into  this  fountain  from  a  point 
near  enough  for  liim  to  touch  his  nose  to  the  water, 
all  the  fairy-like  scenes  of  the  Silver  Springs  and 
the  AVaui.  'a  Spring  in  Florida  api)ear.  The  royal 
halls  and  chambers  of  Undine  meet  the  view,  with 
gardens  of  emeralds  and  gem-bearing  ferns.  It 
kindles  one's  fancy  to  gaze  long  into  these  crystal 
caverns,  and  a  practical  mind  could  hardly  resist 
here  the  poetic  sense  of  Fou({u6  that  created  Un- 
dine. 

The  Black  Eagle  Falls,  with  its  great  nest  and 
marvelous  fountains,  was  a  favorite  resort  of  the 
Blackfeet  Indians  and  t»ther  Indian  tribes.  It  is 
related  in  the  old  traditions  that  the  Piegans,  on 
one  of  their  expeditions  against  the  Crows,  rested 
here,  and  became  enchanted  with  the  fonntain  : 


TIIK   BLACK  EAGLKS  NKST.  ny 

"  Hither  onmo  the  warrior  I'icpins 
On  tlit'ir  way  to  lif^lit  the  Cmw; 
Stood  upon  its  ver;,'!',  and  wondered 
Wlml  could  nieiiu  tlie  power  below," 

Tilt!  PiL'^ims  were  tilled  witli  awe  tliat  t)ic 
fttiiiittiiii  rose  and  fell  and  ^Mir<j;le(l,  us  if  in  spasms 
of  j)ait».     They  sent  for  a  native  inedieine-iiiaii. 

"  Why  is  the  fomitaiii  ti-()iil)led  {  "  th''y  asked. 

"This,"  said  the  Iiidiati  jir(»|)liet,  "  is  the  j)iirc 
sti'eain  that  flows  through  the  earth  t»»  the  sim.  It 
asks  for  olTeriiigs.  AVc  east  tlie  s])oils  of  war  iiit(» 
it,  and  it  earries  them  away  to  the  Sun's  t<[p(C,  and 
the  Sun  is  glad,  and  so  sliines  for  lis  all," 

The  IMaekfeet  M-orshiped  the  Sun.  The  Sun 
River,  a  few  miles  ahove  this  eataract,  wiis  a  medi- 
eine  or  sacred  river  in  the  trihal  days,  and  it  was 
in  this  region  of  gleaming  streams  and  tliiindering 
waterfalls  that  the  once  famous  Sun-dances  were 
lield. 

There  was  a  bar])arous  splendor  ahout  these  Sun- 
dances.  The  tribes  gathered  for  the  festival  in 
the  lonii",  hrio-ht  days  of  the  year.  Thev  wore 
ornaments  of  crystal,  (jiiartz,  and  mica,  such  as 
would  attract  and  reflect  tlie  rays  of  the  sun.  The 
dance  was  a  glimmering  maze  of  reflections.  As  it 
reached  its  height,  gleaming  arrows  were  shot  into 


120  TIIK  I.Oti  SCIlOOL-IiorSK  ON  TIIK  COLl'MIUA. 

tliu  air.  AliMve  thoin,  iti  tliclr  j)o('ti<r  vision,  siit 
tliu  Sun  in  liis  V^xv-  They  Ik-M  timt  the  thuiuU'r 
wu.s  caused  l)y  the  wings  of  a  great  invisihle  hinl. 
Often,  at  the  eh).se  of  the  Sun-dance  (^n  the;  sul- 
try dayn,  the  cloudrt  would  gather,  and  the  tiiunder- 
hii'd  Would  shake  its  wings  ahove  them  and  eool 
tho  air.  iKliglitt'nl  times  were  these  old  festivals 
on  the  Missouri.  At  evening,  in  the  long  North- 
ern twilights,  they  W()uld  recount  the  traditions  of 
tho  j)ast.  Some  of  the  old  tales  of  the  Hlackfeet, 
riegans,  and  ('hii)i)ewas,  are  as  eharniing  as  those 
of  La  Fontaine. 

The  liainhow  Falls  are  far  more  heautiful  than 
tliose  of  thr  '  ...  Eagle.  They  are  some  six  miles 
from  th  ■  i.<\v  ei*  of  Great  Falls.  A  long  stairway 
of  two  1....  ,,red  or  more  steps  conducts  the  tourist 
into  tlieir  very  mi.st-land  of  rocks  and  surges. 
Here  one  is  almost  deafened  hy  the  thunder. 
When  the  sun  is  shining,  tlie  air  is  glorious  with 
rainhoM's,  that  haunt  the  mists  like  a  poet's  dream. 

The  Great  Fall,  some  twelve  miles  from  the  city, 
plunges  nearly  a  hundred  feet,  and  has  a  roar  like 
that  of  Niagara.  It  is  one  of  the  greati'st  water- 
powers  of  the  continent. 

The  city  of  Great  Falls  is  leaping  into  life  in 
a  legend-haunted  region.     Its  horizon  is  a  horder- 


Till-:   m.ACK   KACJhK'S  NKST.  121 

IiukI  (if  \v<Mi(U'i'.s.  Afar  olT  t^li'iini  the  IIi;;liN\niMl 
Moiiiitiiiiis,  with  n»ofs  of  <;listeiiiii<^  siiow.  Ihitti's 
(hills  with  level  tops)  rise  like  giiint  |»yniiiii(ls  here 
iiitd  there,  and  one  may  almost  ima^'iiie  that  he  is  in 
the  laii<l  of  the  IMiaruohs.  JJeneh  lainls  diversify 
the  wide  plains.  Ranehes  and  j^o'eat  tloeks  are 
everywhere  ;  armies  of  eattle ;  ereeks  shaded  with 
Cottonwood  and  box-elder;  hirds  and  flowers;  an<l 
«^olden  eagles  j:jleamin<^  in  the  air.  The  Rockies, 
wall  tiie  northern   plains. 

The  IJelt  Mountain  rci^ion  near  (treat  Falls  is  a 
wonder-land,  like  the  (Jarden  of  the  (iods  in  Colo- 
rado, or  the  Goblin  Laiul  near  the  Yellowstone.  It 
wonld  seem  that  it  on^^ht  to  be  made  a  State  pai-k. 
Here  one  fancies  one's  self  to  be  amid  the  ruins 
of  castles,  cathedrals,  and  fortresses,  so  fantastic 
are  the  shapes  of  the  broken  mountain-walls.  It  is 
a  land  <tf  birds  and  flowers  ;  of  rock  roses,  wild 
sunflowers,  j^olden-rods  ;  of  wax-wings,  orioles,  spar- 
rows, and  ea;jles.  Here  roams  the  stealthv  mount- 
ain  lion. 

This  region,  too,  has  its  delightful  legends. 

One  of  these  legends  will  awaken  gi'eat  curios- 
ity as  the  State  of  ^fontana  grows,  and  she  hcems 
destined  to  become  the  monarch  of  States. 

In   1742    Sieur   de  la   Verendrve,   the    French 


122  THE  LOU  SCllOOL-llOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Governor  of  Quebec,  sent  out  an  expedition,  under 
his  sons  and  brother,  tliat  discovered  the  lloeky 
Mountains,  which  were  named  La  Montana  llocheH. 
On  tlie  12th  of  May,  IT-i-t,  this  exi)edition  visited 
tlie  ui)[)er  Missouri,  and  phinted  on  an  eminence, 
])robably  in  the  near  region  of  Great  Falls,  a  lead- 
en plate  bearing  the  arms  of  France,  and  raised  a 
monument  above  it,  which  the  Verendryes  named 
Beauhamois,  It  is  stated  that  this  monument  was 
erected  on  a  river-bluff,  between  bowlders,  and  that 
it  was  twenty  feet  in  diameter. 

There  are  people  wh"  claim  to  have  discov- 
ered this  monument,  but  they  fail  to  })roduce  the 
leaden  plate  with  the  arms  of  France  that  the  ex- 
plorers buried.  The  search  for  this  hidden  plate 
will  one  day  l)egin,  and  the  subject  is  likely  greatly 
to  interest  historical  societies  in  ]\rontana,  and  to 
become  a  very  poetic  mystery. 

Into  this  wonder-land  of  waterfalls,  sun-dances, 
and  legends,  our  young  explorers  came,  now  pad- 
dling in  their  airy  canoe,  now  bearing  the  canoe  on 
their  backs  around  the  falls. 

Mr.  Mann's  white  face  Mas  a  surprise  to  the 
native  tribes  that  they  met  on  the  way,  but  Benja- 
min's brightness  and  friendly  ways  made  the  jour- 
ney of  both  easy. 


THE  BLACK  EAGLE'S  NEST.  123 

They  came  to  the  Black  Eagle  Falls.  The  great 
nest  still  was  there.  It  was  as  is  described  in  the 
book  of  the  early  e.\[)lorers. 

It  hung  over  the  mists  of  the  rapids,  and, 
strangely  enough,  there  were  revealed  tlnvc  black 
plumes  in  the  nest. 

Benjamin  beheld  these  plumes  Mith  a  kind  of 
religious  awe.  His  eyes  dilated  as  lie  ])ointed  to 
them. 

"  They  are  for  me,"  he  said.  "  One  for  me,  <»ne 
for  father,  and  one  for  vou.     I'll  get  them  all." 

He  glided  fdong  a  shelf  of  rocks  toward  the 
little  island,  and  mounted  the  tree.  The  black 
eagles  were  yet  there,  though  their  nest  was  empty. 
He  passed  up  the  tree  under  the  wings  of  the 
eagles,  and  came  down  with  a  handful  of  feathers. 

"  The  book  was  true,"  said  he. 

They  went  to  Afedicine  Kiver,  now  called  the 
Sun  River,  and  there  witnessed  a  Sun-dance. 

It  was  a  scene  to  tempt  a  brilliant  j)ainter  or 
poet.  The  chiefs  and  warriors  were  array(Ml  in 
crystals,  quartz,  and  every  bright  ])roduct  of  the 
earth  and  river  that  would  reflect  the  glory  of  the 
sun. 

They  returned  from  where  the  city  of  Circat 
Falls  is  now,  back   to  the  mountains    and    to  the 


124  THE  LOO  SCUOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

trihutaries  of  tlio  Colniiibiii.  Ik'njainin  appeared 
l)efoi'e  liis  father,  on  ]iis  return,  witli  a  crest  of 
l)la';k  ea^de's  plumes,  and  this  crest  tlie  young 
Indian  knight  wore  until  the  day  of  his  death. 

"I  shall  wear  mine  always,"  he  said  to  his 
father.     "  You  wear  yours." 

''  Yes,"  said  his  father,  with  a  face  that  showed 
a  full  heart. 

"  ]}oth  together,"  said  Benjamin. 

"  Both  together,"  replied  T- nuitilla. 

"Always?"  said  Benjamin. 

"  Always  "  answered  the  chief. 

The  Indians  remend)ered  these  M'ords.  Some- 
how there  seemed  to  he  something  prophetic  in 
them.  Wherever,  from  that  day,  Umatilla  or 
Younir  Ea<rle's  Plume  was  seen,  each  M'orc  the 
black  feather  fron>  the  great  eagle's  nest,  amid  the 
mists  and  rainbows  or  mist-bows  of  the  Falls  of  the 
Missouri. 

It  was  a  touch  of  poetic  sentiment,  but  these 
Indian  races  of  the  Columbia  lived  in  a  region  that 
was  itself  a  Sf^hool  of  poetry.  The  Potlatch  was 
sentiment,  and  the  Sun-dance  was  an  actual  poem, 
]\Iany  of  the  tents  of  skin  abounded  with  picture- 
writing,  and  the  stories  told  by  the  night  fires 
were  full  of  picturescpie  figures. 


THE  BLACK  EAGLE'S  NEST.  125 

Gretcheu's  poetic  eye  found  subjocts  iov  voriso 
ill  all  these  things,  and  she  often  wrote  down  her 
impressions,  and  read  them  to  praetieal  Mrs. 
"Woods,  who  allected  to  ignore  sueh  thinjjs,  hut  }et 
seemed  secretly  delighted  with  them. 

"  You  have  talons,''^  she  used  to  say,  "  hut  they 
don't  amount  to  anything,  anyway.  IS'everthe- 
less— " 

The  expedition  to  the  Falls  of  the  Missouri, 
and  the  new  and  strange  sights  which  l>enjamin 
saw  there,  led  him  to  desire  to  make  other  trips 
with  the  schoolmastei-,  to  whom  he  became  daily 
more  and  more  attached.  In  fact,  the  Indian  boy 
came  to  follow  his  teacher  about  with  a  kind  of 
jealous  watchfulness.  lie  seemed  to  be  ])erfectly 
happy  when  the  latter  was  with  him,  and,  when 
absent  from  him,  he  talked  of  him  more  than  of 
any  other  person. 

In  the  middle  of  autumn  the  sky  was  often 
clouded  with  wild  geese,  which  in  Y-shaped  flocks 
passed  in  long  processions  overhead,  honJtliKj  in  a 
trumpet-like  manner.  Sometimes  a  flock  of  snowy 
geese  would  be  seen,  and  the  laughing  goose  would 
be  heard. 

"  AVhere  do  they  go  ?  "  said  Mr.  Mann  one  day 
to  Benjamin. 


126  THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Tlie  boy  told  him  of  a  wonderful  iishuid,  now 
known  as  Whidby,  where  there  were  great  gather- 
ings of  iloeks  of  geese  in  the  fall. 

"  Let's  go  see,"  said  he.  "  The  geese  arc 
thicker  than  the  bushes  there — the  jionds  are  all 
alive  with  them  there — honk — honk — honk  !  Let's 
go  sec." 

"  When  the  school  is  over  for  the  fall  we  will 
go,"  said  Mr.  Mann. 

The  Lidian  boy's  face  beamed  Avith  delight. 
lie  dreamed  of  another  expedition  like  that  to 
the  wonderful  Falls,  lie  would  there  show  the 
master  the  great  water  cities  of  the  wild  geese,  the 
emigrants  of  the  air.  The  thought  of  it  made 
him  dance  with  delight. 

Often  at  nightfall  great  flocks  of  the  Canada 
geese  would  follow  the  Cohnnbia  towards  the  sea. 
Benjamin  would  watch  them  with  a  heart  full  of 
anticipation.  It  made  him  supremely  happy  to 
show  the  master  the  wonderful  things  of  the 
beautiful  country,  and  the  one  ambition  of  his 
heart  now  was  to  go  to  the  lakes  of  the  honks. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


gretchen's  visit  to  the  old   chief  ok  the 

cascades. 


"  Go  to  tlie  cliief  H  lod^jje,  (irctcliun,  and  stay 
until  the  Potlatcli,  and  I  will  conic  to  visit  you." 
Such  were  the  words  of  Mrs.  AVoods,  as  her  final 
decision,  after  long  considering  the  chiefs  re- 
(juest. 

The  forest  lodge  of  the  old  chief  of  the  Cas- 
cades was  picturesque  without  and  within.  Out- 
wardly, it  was  a  mere  tent  of  skins  and  curious 
pictography,  under  the  shadows  of  gigantic  trees, 
looking  down  on  the  glistening  waters  of  the 
Columhia ;  inwardly,  it  was  a  inuseuni  of  relics  of 
the  supposed  era  of  the  giant-killers,  and  of  the 
deep  regions  of  the  tooth  and  claw  ;  of  rotlatches, 
masques  and  charms  of  mcdas  and  vahenocs ;  of 
curious  pipes ;  of  odd,  curious  feathers,  and  heauti- 
ful  shells  and  feather-work  and  pearls.  Rut,  though 
all   things  here  were  rude  and  primitive,  the  old 


128  THE  L(X}  SCnOOL-IIOUSE  OX  THE  COLUMBIA. 

cliii'f  liad  a  stron<^  poetic  sense,  and  tlie  place  and 
tlie  arranii^einent  of  everything  in  it  Avere  very 
pictnresque  in  its  eileet,  and  would  have  delight- 
ed an  artist.  On  a  hill  near  were  <^rave-]K)sts, 
and  a  sacred  i^rove,  in  whicli  were  bark  cotlins  in 
trees.  Near  by  was  an  open  field  where  the  Indian 
hunters  were  accustomed  to  «ri^ther  their  peltries, 
and  where  visiting  bands  of  Indians  came  to  be 
hospitably  entertained,  and  feasts  were  given  d  la 
mode  He  sanvacje.  From  the  plateau  of  the  royal 
lodge  ran  long  forest  trails  and  })athways  of  blazed 
trees ;  and  near  the  opening  to  the  tent  rt)se  two 
poles,  to  indicate  the  royal  rank  of  the  occupant. 
These  Avere  ornamented  with  ideograi)hic  devices 
of  a  historical  and  religious  character. 

The  family  of  Umatilla  consisted  of  his  squaw, 
an  old  woman  partly  demented,  and  Benjamin,  who 
was  now  much  of  the  time  away  with  the  school- 
master. 

'^'he  old  chief  was  very  kind  to  his  unfortunate 
wife,  and  treated  her  like  a  child  or  a  doll.  Benja- 
min was  about  to  take  as  his  bride  an  Indian  crirl 
whom  the  English  called  Fair  Cloud,  and  she  was  a 
frecpient  visitor  at  the  tent. 

To  this  patriarchal  family  Gretchen  came  one 
day,  bringing  her  violin.     Fair  Cloud  was  there  to 


GIlETCriEN'S  VISIT  TO  THE  OLD  CHIEF.     ]2d 

recei\  0  liLT,  juul  the  crazy  old  i?(|iuiw  soemod  to  he 
made  happy  by  the  .siglit  of  her  \vhite  face,  and  she 
did  all  that  «he  could  in  her  simple  way  to  make 
her  welcome.  She  gave  her  ornaments  oi  shells, 
and  pointed  (»ut  to  her  a  wabeno-tree,  in  whose 
tops  8])irits  M'cre  8up])osed  to  whis})er,  and  around 
which  Indian  visitors  sometimes  danced  in  the  sum- 
mer evenin<i:s. 

The  Indian  maid  was  ca<^er  to  liear  the  violin, 
hut  the  old  chief  said  :  "  It  is  the  voice  of  the  Mer- 
ciful ;  let  it  be  still — the  god  should  not  speak 
nnich." 

He  seemed  to  wish  to  reserve  the  influence  of 
the  instrument  for  the  Potlatch,  to  make  it  an  ob- 
ject of  wonder  and  veneration  for  a  time,  that  its 
voice  might  be  more  magical  when  it  should  be 
heard. 

There  was  a  kind  of  tambourine,  ornamented 
wnth  fan-like  feathers,  in  the  lodge.  Fair  Clond 
used  to  play  upon  it,  or  i-ather  shake  it  in  a  rhyth- 
mic way.  There  was  also  a  war-drum  in  the  lodge, 
and  an  Indian  called  lilackhoof  used  to  beat  it, 
and  sav : 

"  I  walk  upon  the  skv, 

My  wivr-dnim  'tis  you  hoar; 

When  tho  sun  fjoos  out  at  noon, 

My  war-drum  'tis  you  hear ! 


130  TlIK  LOO  SCIIOOL-IIorSR  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  When  forkod  light iiiiif,'s  flash, 

My  wiir-dnim  'tis  you  hour. 
1  wiilk  upon  the  sky, 
And  call  the  clouds;  be  still, 

My  wur-druiu  'tis  you  hour  !  " 

Tlio  tribes  of  tlie  Oivgoii  at  tliis  tiiiio  were 
miinerous  but  siiuill.  Tbej  consisted  cliieriy  of  the 
Chino(»ks  N'iincouvers,  tlie  Walla  Wallas,  the  Va- 
comai's,  the  Spokans,  the  C'aynses,  the  Nez-Perces, 
tlie  Skagits,  the  Cascades,  and  many  tribes  that  were 
scarcely  more  than  families.  They  were  for  the 
most  part  friendly  with  each  other,  and  they  found 
in  the  Orei^-on  or  Columbia  a  common  fishin*;- 
ground,  and  a  water-way  to  all  their  territories. 
They  lived  easily.  The  woods  were  full  of  game, 
and  the  river  of  salmon,  and  berries  loaded  the 
plateaus.  Ked  M'hortleberries  filled  the  woodland 
])astures  and  blackberries  the  margins  of  the 
woods. 

The  climate  was  an  almost  continuous  April ; 
there  was  a  cloudy  season  in  winter  with  rainy 
m'ghts,  but  the  Japanese  winds  ate  up  the  snows, 
and  the  ponies  grazed  out  of  doors  in  mid-winter, 
and  s]>ring  came  in  February.  It  was  almost  an 
ideal  existence  that  these  old  tribes  or  families  of 
Indians  lived. 

Among  the  early  friends  of  these  people  was 


GUETCIIEN'S  VISIT  TO  TIIK  OLD  ClilKK.    lai 

Dick  Trevette,  whotic  t«»inl)  stiirtk-s  tlio  tourist  on 
tiie  Coluinl)iu  an  he  pjisscy  MaimiloosL',  or  tlu'  Isliiiul 
of  tho  Dt'jul.  lie  (lied  in  ('uliforniii,  luul  his  lust 
re(|uest  was  that  he  nii^'lit  be  buried  in  tlie  Indian 
graveyard  on  tlie  Cohnidtia  River,  among  a  race 
whose  hearts  had  always  been  true  to  him. 

The  old  chief  taught  (Jretchen  to  lish  in  the 
Columbia,  and  the  withered  crone  cooked  the  fish 
that  nhe  caught. 

Strange  visitors  came  to  tlie  lodge,  among  them 
an  Indian  girl  who  brought  her  old,  withered 
father  straj)ped  uj)ou  her  back.  The  aged  Indian 
wished  to  pay  his  last  respects  to  Umatilla. 

Indians  of  other  tribes  came,  and  they  were 
usually  entertained  at  a  feast,  and  in  the  even- 
ing were  invited  to  dance  about  the  whispering 
tree. 

The  song  for  the  rcccpti(m  of  strangers,  which 
was  sung  at  the  dance,  was  curious,  and  it  was  ac- 
companied by  striking  the  hand  U})on  the  breast 
over  the  heart  at  the  words  "  Here,  here,  here"  : 

"  You  rcs(Mnl)le  a  friend  of  mine. 
A  friend  I  would  have  in  my  heart — 
Here,  here,  here. 

"  My  heart  is  linked  to  thine; 
You  are  like  a  friend  of  mine — 
Here,  here,  here. 
9 


132  TIIK  LOO  SCIIOOL-IIOL'SK  ON  TIIH  (OiAMlJIA. 

"  i\ro  wo  not  l)rt)tlii'rs,  thou  ; 
JShull  W((  not  nict^t  iiK'iiin— 
I  lore,  horo,  here  y 

"Mi,  yes,  wo  IjiotluTM  ho, 
So  my  fiiMil  liciirl  .sinj,'s  to  thco— 
lli'ie,  liiro,  /tar. 

"  Ah !  yes,  wo  brotluTs  Ih'  ; 
Will  you  not  answer  nic — 
lloru,  liuru,  here  /" 

Gretclien  wjw  I'uppy  in  the  new  kiiul  of  life. 
Sliedid  not  feur  tlie  Iiuliuns;  in  fuct,  the  thing  that 
nhe  feared  inoht  wus  tlie  j)roniised  visit  of  IMrn. 
Woods.  She  WHS  sure  tlitit  lier  foster-niotlier's 
spirit  would  ehange  toward  the  Indians,  hut  the 
change  had  not  yet  come. 

One  evening  the  schoohnastor  came  to  call. 
lie  was  hent  upon  a  mission,  as  always.  The 
family  gave  him  a  seat  outside  of  the  tent,  and 
gathered  aroun<l  him,  and  they  talked  until  the 
stars  came  out  and  were  mirrored  in  the  Columhia. 

One  of  the  first  questions  asked  hy  the  old  chief 
was,  "  Is  Eagle's  Plmne  (I>enjamin)  hrave  ? "  (a 
good  scholar). 

"  Yes,  hrave  at  times  ;  he  must  learn  to  he  brave 
always.  lie  must  always  keep  his  better  self.  The 
world  wonhl  he  good  if  people  would  learn  to 
keep  their  better  selves.     Do  you  see  ? " 


UKHTCIIKN'S  VISIT  TU  TUK  OLD  ClIIKF.    1^3 

«  YC8." 

"A  cliief  should  ('(HKjiu'r  hiiihsclf  lii-Ht ;  olti-y 
the  will  of  the  (irt'iit  Manitou — do  you  huo  i  " 

"  Yu8,  hut  how  ciui  wu  know  liis  will?" 

"It  18  his  will  thiit  wo  ho  our  he>t  niindrt.  For- 
give, and  BO  inuke  hud  j)eople  good,  and  return 
good  for  had.     Do  you  see  r' 

''Yes,  boy,  do  you  see?"  (to  Ijeujaniin). 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see  "what  white  nuin  ineiiuH.  "Hut 
white  man  do  not  so.     He  cheat — he  kill." 

'*  Botiton  tillcu7n,  what  do  you  say  ?  "  asked  the 
chief. 

"White  man  does  not  follow  his  best  heart 
when  he  cheats  and  kills.  It  is  wrong.  All  men 
should  he  brothers — see  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  have  tried  to  be  a  brother.  I  have  no 
shed  blood — I  live  in  peace — like  yonder  river. 
The  stars  love  to  shine  on  the  peaceful  river.  IJen- 
jamin  will  learn.  I  go  away  when  the  swallows  go, 
and  no  more  come  when  the  swallows  bring  the 
spring  on  their  wings  again.  Teach  Benjamin  to 
be  his  good  self  all  the  time ;  make  him  good 
here.'''' 

All  the  Indian  visitors  who  came  to  the  place 
examined  the  violin  cautiously,  and  the  Indian 
hunters  seemed  to  regard  Gretchen  with  suspicion. 


134  THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

When  any  asked  lier  to  play  for  them,  the  old  chief 
would  answer :  "  Not  now,  but  at  the  Potlatch — 
then  it  speak  and  you  will  hear ;  you  will  hear  what 
it  says." 

But,  of  all  the  people  that  came  to  the  lodge,  no 
one  could  have  been  more  curious  than  Mrs.  Woods. 
She  had  been  living  in  terror  of  the  threatened 
events  of  the  October  feast,  and  yet  she  wished  to 
make  the  Indians  believe  that  she  was  indifferent  to 
their  ill-will,  and  that  she  possessed  some  hidden 
power  that  gave  her  security. 

She  approached  the  lodge  slowly  on  the  occa- 
sion of  her  visit,  picking  red  whortleberries  by 
the  way.  Benjamin  watched  her  nervous  motions, 
and  felt  that  they  implied  a  want  of  respect, 
and  he  grew  silent  and  looked  stoical.  Gretchen 
went  out  to  meet  her,  and  brought  her  to  the  old 
chief. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day,  one  of  those  long  dreams 
of  golden  splendor  that  glorify  the  banks  of  the 
Oregon.  Eccentric  Victor  Trevette  and  his  Indian 
wife  were  at  the  lodge,  and  the  company  were 
joined  by  the  Rev.  Jason  Lee,  who  had  come  up 
the  Columbia  in  the  interests  of  the  mission  in  the 
AYillamette  Vallev.     Seattle  *  was  there,  from  the 

*  See  Historical  Notes. 


r  "^€-  ".*■        "-ri-'  m  _ 


J. 


GRETCIJEN'S  VISIT  TO  THE  OLD  CHIEF.    I35 

"VVillaiiiette,  tlieii  young,  and  not  yet  the  titular 
chief  of  Governor  Stevens.  *  It  was  a  company  of 
diverse  spirits — Trevette,  the  reputed  gambler,  hut 
the  true  friend  of  the  Indian  races ;  Lee,  who  had 
beheld  Oregon  in  his  early  visions,  and  now  saw  the 
future  of  the  mountain-domed  country  in  dreams ; 
sharp-tongued  but  industrious  and  warm-hearted 
Mrs.  Woods;  the  nmsical  German  girl,  with  memo- 
ries of  the  llhine;  and  the  Indian  chief  and  his 
family.  The  Columbia  rolled  below  the  tall  pali- 
sades, the  opjiosite  bank  was  full  oi  cool  shadows  of 
overhanging  rocks,  suidess  retreats,  and  dripping  cas- 
cades of  glacier-water.  Afar  loomed  Mount  Hood 
in  grandeur  unsurpassed,  if  we  exce})t  Tacoma,  in- 
swathed  in  forests  and  covered  with  crvstal  crowns. 
The  Chinook  winds  were  blowing  coolly,  coming 
from  the  Kuro  Siwo,  or  placid  ocean-river  from 
Japan  ;  odoriferous,  as  though  spice-laden  from  the 
flowery  isles  of  the  Yellow^  Sea.  AVarm  in  winter, 
cool  in  sunnner,  like  the  Gulf  winds  of  Floridian 
shores,  the  good  angel  of  the  Puget  Sea  territories 
is  the  Chinook  wind  from  far  Asia,  a  mysterious 
country,  of  which  the  old  chief  and  his  family 
knew  no  more  than  of  the  blessed  isles. 

"  It  is  a  day  of  the  Great  Manitou,"  said  the  old 

*  See  nistorical  Notes. 


130  THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

cliief.  "  lie  lights  tlio  sun,  and  lifts  his  wings  for  a 
bIuuIow,  and  breathes  on  the  earth.  He  lills  our 
hearts  with  peace.     I  am  glad." 

"  I  only  wish  my  people  in  the  East  knew  how 
wonderful  this  country  is,"  said  Jason  Lee.  "  I  am 
blamed  and  distrusted  because  I  leave  my  mission 
work  to  sec  what  great  resources  here  await  man- 
kind. I  do  it  only  for  the  good  of  others — some- 
thing within  me  impels  me  to  do  it,  yet  they  say  I 
neglect  my  work  to  become  a  political  pioneer.  As 
well  might  they  censure  Joshua." 

"  As  a  missionary,"  said  the  old  hunter,  "  you 
would  teach  the  Indians  truth ;  as  a  pioneer,  you 
would  bring  colonies  here  to  rob  them  of  their 
lands  and  rights.  I  can  respect  the  missionary,  but 
not  the  pioneer.  See  the  happiness  of  all  these 
tribal  families.  Benjamin  is  right — Mrs.  "Woods 
has  no  business  here." 

"Adventurer,"  said  Mrs.  "Woods,  rising  upon 
her  feet,  "  I  am  a  working-woman — I  came  out 
here  to  work  and  improve  tlie  country,  and  you 
came  here  to  live  on  your  Injun  wife.  The  world 
belongs  to  those  who  work,  and  not  to  the  idle.  It 
is  runninc:  water  that  freshens  the  earth.  Husband 
and  I  built  our  house  with  our  own  hands,  and  I 
made  my  garden  Avitli  my  own  hands,  and  I  have 


GRETCIIEN'S  VISIT  TO  THE  OLD  CUIEF.    137 

defended  my  property  with  my  own  hands  against 
bears  and  Injuns,  and  have  kept  Inisband  to  work 
at  the  block-house  to  esfi-n  money  for  the  day  of 
trouble  and  helplessness  that  is  sure  some  day  to 
come  to  us  all.  I  raise  my  own  garden-sass  and 
all  other  sass.  Tm  an  honest  woman,  that's  what  I 
am,  and  have  asked  nothing  in  the  world  but  what 
I  liave  earned,  and  don't  you  dare  to  (piestion  my 
rights  to  anything  I  possess  !  I  never  had  a  dollar 
that  I  did  not  earn,  and  that  honestly,  and  what  is 
mine  is  mine." 

"Be  careful,  woman,"  said  the  hunter.  "It 
will  not  be  yours  very  long  unless  you  have  a  dif- 
ferent temper  and  tongue.  There  are  black  wings 
in  the  sky,  and  you  would  not  be  so  cool  if  yon 
had  heard  the  things  that  liave  come  to  my  ears." 

Mrs.  "Woods  was  secretly  alarmed.  She  felt 
that  her  assumed  boldness  was  insincere,  and  that 
any  insincerity  is  weakness.  She  glanced  up  a  long 
ladder  of  rods  or  poles  which  were  hung  with  Pot- 
latch  masks — fearful  and  merciless  visages,  fit  to 
cover  the  faces  of  crime.  She  had  heard  that  Uma- 
tilla would  never  put  on  a  mask  himself,  although 
he  allowed  the  custom  at  the  tribal  dances.  IVIrs. 
Woods  dropped  her  black  eyes  from  the  ominous 
masks  to  the  honest  face  of  the  chief. 


138  THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  There,"  said  she,  lifting  lier  arm,  "  there  sits 
an  lionest  man.  lie  never  covered  his  heart  with  a 
mask — he  never  covered  his  face  with  a  mask.  lie 
has  promised  me  protection.  He  lias  promised  to 
protect  the  school.  I  can  trust  a  man  who  never 
wears  a  mask.  Most  people  wear  masks — Death 
takes  the  masks  away  ;  when  Death  comes  to  Uma- 
tilla, he  will  find  great  UmatiHa  only,  fearless  and 
noble — honest  and  true,  but  no  mask.  He  never 
wore  a  mask." 

"  But,  woman,"  said  Umatilla,  "  you  arc  wearing 
a  mask  ;  you  are  afraid." 

"  Yes,  but  I  can  trust  your  word." 
"  You  seek  to  please  me  for  your  own  good." 
"  Yes — but,  Umatilla,  I  can  trust  your  word." 
"  The   word   of    Unuitilla  was    never    broken. 
Death  will  come  to  Umatilla  for  his  mask,  and  will 
go  away  with  an  empty  hand.   I  have  tried  to  make 
my  people  better. — Brother  Lee,  you   have   come 
here  to  ir struct  me — I  honor  you.     Listen  to  an  old 
Indian's  ^lory.     Sit  down  all.     I  have  something 
that  I  would  say  to  you." 

The  company  sat  down  and  listened  to  the  old 
chief.  They  expected  that  he  would  speak  in  a 
parable,  and  he  did.  He  told  them  in  Chinook 
the  story  of 


GRETCIIEN'S  VISIT  TO  THE  OLD  CHIEF.    i;39 
THE    WOLF  niiOTUER. 

An  old  Indian  hunter  was  dying  in  liis  lodge. 
The  l)arka  were  lifted  to  admit  the  air.  The  winds 
of  the  seas  came  and  revived  him,  and  lie  called 
his  three  children  to  him  and  made  his  last  he- 
(juests. 

"■  My  son,"  he  said,  "  I  am  going  out  into  the 
unknown  life  whence  I  came.  (Jive  yourself  to 
those  who  need  you  most,  and  always  he  true  to 
your  younger  hrother." 

"  My  daughter,"  he  said,  "  he  a  mother  to  your 
younger  hrother.  Give  him  your  love,  or  for  want 
of  it  he  may  become  lonely  and  as  savage  as  the 
animals  are." 

The  two  older  children  promised,  and  the  father 
died  at  sunset,  and  went  into  the  unknown  life 
whence  he  came. 

The  old  Indian  had  lived  apart  from  the  villages 
of  men  for  the  sake  of  peace ;  V)ut  now,  aft(jr  his 
death,  the  oldest  son  sought  the  villages  and  he  de- 
sired to  live  in  them.  "  ]\[y  sister,"  he  said,  "  can 
h)ok  out  for  niv  little  brother.  I  nuist  look  out  for 
myself." 

r>ut  the  sister  tired  of  solitude,  and  longed  to  go 
to  the  villages.     So  one  day  she  said  to  her  little 


140  THE  LOG  SCUOUL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMIUA. 

brotlier :  "  I  am  jfointc  uwav  to  find  our  Itrothor  wlut 
1ms  taken  up  liis  alMxlu  in  the  villages.  1  will  come 
back  in  a  few  moons.     Stay  you  liere." 

But  blie  married  in  the  villages,  and  did  not 
return. 

The  little  brother  was  left  all  alone,  and  lived  on 
roots  and  berries.  lie  one  day  found  a  den  of 
young  wolves  and  fed  them,  and  the  mother-wolf 
seemed  so  friendly  that  he  visited  her  daily.  So  he 
made  the  acquaintance  of  the  great  wolf  family, 
and  came  to  like  them,  and  roam  about  with  them, 
and  he  no  longer  was  lonesome  or  wished  for  the 
company  of  men. 

One  day  the  pack  of  wolves  came  near  the 
villages,  and  the  little  boy  saw  his  brother  fishing 
and  his  sister  weaving  under  a  tree.  He  drew  near 
them,  and  they  recognized  him. 

"  Come  to  us,  little  brother,"  said  they,  sorry 
that  tliey  had  left  him  to  the  animals. 

"  No — no !  "  said  he.  "  I  would  rather  be  a  wolf. 
The  wolves  have  been  kinder  to  me  than  yon. 

"  My  brother, 
My  brother, 
I  am  turning — 
I  am  turning 
Into  a  wolf. 
You  made  me  so  I 


GKETCIIEN'S  VISIT  TO  THE  OLD  CHIEF.    Ul 

"  My  sister, 
JNIy  si.'jjer, 
1  um  turning — 
I  jun  turning 
Into  a  wolf. 

You  nuido  rao  so  1 " 

"  O  little  broth(!r,  forgive  me,"  said  the  sister ; 

'"  forgive  me  !  " 

''  It  is  too  late  now.     See,  I  am  a  wolf !  " 

lie   howled,  and  ran   away   with   the  pack  of 

wolves,  and  they  never  saw  him  again. 

"Jason  Lee,  be  good  to  my  people  when  I  am 
gone,  lest  they  become  like  tiie  little  brother. 

"Victor  Trevette,  be  good  to  my  people  when  I 
am  gone,  lest  they  become  like  the  little  brother." 

The  tall  form  of  "Marlowe  Maim  now  a]ipcared 
before  the  open  entrance  of  the  lodge.  The  Yan- 
kee schoolmaster  had  been  listening  to  the  story. 
The  old  chief  bent  his  eye  upon  him,  and  said, 
"  And,  Boston  tilicnm,  do  yon  be  good  to  Benjamin 
when  I  am  gone,  so  that  he  shall  not  become  like 
the  little  brother." 

"Yon  may  play,  Gretchen,  now — it  is  a  solemn 
honr ;  the  voices  of  the  gods  shonld  speak." 

Gretchen  took  her  violin.  Standing  near  the 
door  of  the  tent,  she  raised  it  to  her  arm,  and  the 


142  THE  LOO  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Ktraiiis  of  Homo  old  (lorimm  music  rose  in  tlie  glim- 
mering uir,  and  drifted  over  the  ('olumhiii. 

"  I  think  that  tiiere  are  worlds  around  this," 
said  the  old  chief.     '^  The  (Jreat  Spirit  is  good." 

The  sun  was  going  down.  High  in  the  air  the 
wild  fowls  were  Hying,  with  the  bright  light  yet  on 
their  wings.  The  glaciers  of  ]\Iount  Hood  were 
flushed  with  crimson — a  sea  of  glass  mingled  with 
tire.  It  was  a  ])astoral  scene  ;  in  it  the  old  history 
of  Oregon  was  coming  to  an  end,  after  the  mys- 
teries of  a  thousand  years,  and  the  new  history  of 
civilization  was  beginning. 

Evening  came,  and  the  compaii}'  dispersed,  but 
the  old  chief  and  Ciretchen  sat  down  outside  of  the 
tent,  and  listened  to  the  nuirmnring  music  of  the 
Dalles  of  the  Cohnnbia,  and  breathed  the  vital  air. 
The  Cohnnbia  is  a  mile  wide  in  some  ])laces,  but  it 
narrows  at  the  Dalles,  or  shelves  and  pours  over  the 
stone  steps  the  gathered  force  of  its  many  tides 
and  streams.  Across  the  river  a  waterfall  filled  the 
air  with  misty  beauty,  and  a  castellated  crag  arose 
solitary  and  solenm — the  remnant  of  some  great 
upheaval  in  the  volcanic  ages. 

The  red  ashes  of  the  sunset  lingered  after  the  fires 
of  the  long  day  had  gone  down,  and  the  stars  came 
out  slowly.     The  old  chief  was  sad  and  thoughtful. 


A  castellattd  crag  arose  solitary  and  solemn. 


GRETCilEN'S  VISIT  TO  TlIK  OLD  CHIIIF.    U.j 

# 

"Sit  down  by  my  feet,  my  diild,"  he  wiid  to 
Clretclien,  or  in  words  of  thiiA  meaning.  '*  I  liiivc 
heeii  thiiikiii"^  wliiit  it  is  tluit  mjiken  the  music  in 
the  violin.  Lot  us  tidic  tt>^c'tii('r,  for  sometiiin^' 
whispers  in  the  leaves  tlmt  my  duyb  are  almost 
done." 

"Let  me  get  the  violin  and  j>lay  to  you,  father; 
we  are  alone." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  get  the  music,  child,  and  you  shall 
})lay,  and  we  will  talk.  Vou  shall  sit  down  at  my 
feet  and  play,  and  we  will  talk.  (Jo,  my  little 
spirit." 

(Jretchen  brought  her  violin,  and  sat  down  at 
his  feet  and  tuned  it.  She  then  drew  lier  bow,  and 
threw  on  the  air  a  haunting  strain. 

"Stop  there,  little  spirit.  It  is  beautiful.  Ihit 
what  uuide  it  beautiful  ? " 

"  My  bow — don't  you  sec  ? " 

Gretchen  drew  her  bow,  and  again  lifted  the 
same  liaunting  air. 

"No — no — my  girl — not  the  bow — something 
behind  the  bow." 

"The  strings?" 

"  No — no — something  behind  the  strings." 

"  My  fingers — so  ?  " 

"  No — no — something  behind  the  fingers." 


144:  THE  LOO  SCnOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  My  hciu\—/iej'e  f  " 

"  No — soinctliin^  beliiiid  tliat." 

"My  heart?" 

"  !No — no — soinothing  beliiiid  that." 

"  I  ? " 

"  Yes — you,  but  something  jjehind  that.  I  have 
not  seen  it,  my  girl — your  spirit.  It  is  that  that 
makes  the  nnisic  ;  l)ut  theize  is  something  behind 
tliat.  I  can  feel  what  I  can  not  see.  I  am  go- 
ing away,  girl — going  away  to  the  source  of  the 
stream.  Then  I  will  know  everything  good  is  beau- 
tiful— it  is  good  that  makes  you  beautiful,  and  the 
music  beautiful.  It  is  good  that  makes  the  river 
beautiful,  and  the  stars.  I  am  going  away  where 
all  is  beautiful.  When  I  am  gone,  teach  my  poor 
people." 

Gretchen  drew  his  red  hand  to  her  lips  and 
kissed  it.  The  chief  bent  low  his  plumed  head  and 
said  : 

"  That  was  so  beautiful,  my  little  spirit,  that  I 
am  in  a  haste  to  go.  One  moon,  and  I  will  go. 
Play." 

Gretchen  obeyed.  Wlien  the  strain  died,  the 
two  sat  and  listened  to  the  murmuring  of  the 
waters,  as  the  river  glided  down  the  shelves,  and 
both  of  them  felt  that  the  spirit  of  Eternal  Good- 


GRETCIIEN'S  VISIT  TO  THE  OLD  CHIEF.     145 

ness  with  a  Fatlicr's  love  watched  over  every- 
thing. 

The  old  chief  rose,  and  said  again : 

"  When  I  am  gone  to  my  fathers,  teach  my 
poor  people."  He  added  :  ''  The  voice  of  the  good 
spirits  ask  it — the  All-Good  asks  it — I  shall  go 
away — to  the  land  whence  the  light  comes.  You 
stay — teach.     You  will  \  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Gretchen — a  consciousness  of  her 
true  calling  in  life  coming  upon  her,  as  in  an  o])en 
vision — "  I  will  bo  their  teacher." 

The  old  chief  seemed  satisfied,  and  said :  ''  It  is 
well ;  I  am  going  away. 

Much  of  the  chiefs  talk  was  acted.  If  he 
wished  to  speak  of  a  star,  he  would  point  to  it ;  and 
lie  would  imitate  a  bird's  call  to  designate  a  bird, 
and  the  gurgle  of  water  when  speaking  of  a  running 
stream.  He  spoke  Ghinook  freely,  and  to  see  him 
when  he  was  speaking  was  to  learn  from  his  mo- 
tions his  meaning. 


CIIAPTEK  X. 

MRS.    WOODS   MEETS    LITTLE    ROLL   OVER   AGAIN. 

One  day  Rev.  Jason  Lee  came  up  from  tlie 
Cascades,  in  a  boat,  to  visit  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Woods  on 
tlieir  donation  claim.  Mr.  Lee  at  tliis  time  was 
inspired  with  missionary  zeal  for  the  Indians,  and 
he  remembered  Mrs.  Woods  kindly  as  an  ignorant 
but  earnest  and  teachable  woman,  whom  the  influ- 
ence of  his  preaching  had  brought  to  his  spiritual 
flock.  He  knew  her  needs  of  counsel  and  help,  he 
pitied  her  hard  and  lonely  life,  and  he  came  to  visit 
her  from  time  to  time. 

He  had  once  given  her  a  copy  of  Wesley's 
Hymns,  and  these  hymns  she  had  unconsciously 
learned,  and  delighted  to  quote  on  all  occasions. 
Her  favorite  hymn  in  the  collection  was  writ- 
ten by  Thomas  Olivers,  one  of  Wesley's  coad- 
jutors, beginning — 

"  The  God  of  Abrah'm  praise." 


MRS.  WOODS  MEETS  LITTLE  ROLL  OVER  AC.AIN.  14  7 

(She  used  to  sing  it  often  about  her  work  ;  and 
one  approaching  the  cabin,  might  often  liave  lieard 
lier  trying  to  sing  to  the  old  Hebrew  niekxlj  of 
Leoniel — a  tune  perliaps  as  okl  as  the  Jewish  Tem- 
ple itself — such  sublime  thoughts  as  these — 

"  The  God  of  Abrah'tn  praise, 

At  whose  supreme  command 
From  earth  I  rise,  and  seek  the  joys 

At  his  ri<;^lit  hand  ; 
I  all  on  earth  forsake. 

Its  wisdom,  fame,  and  power; 
And  him  my  only  portion  make, 

My  shield  and  tower. 

"  lie  by  himself  hath  sworn, 
i-  I  on  his  oath  depend ; 

I  sliall.  on  eagles'  wings  upborne, 

To  heaven  ascend : 
I  shall  behold  his  face, 

I  shall  his  power  adore, 
And  sing  the  wonders  of  his  grace 
Forever  more." 

Another  favorite  hymn,  in  an  easy  metre,  was 
John  AVesley's  triumphant  review  of  life  in  liis 
middle  age.  The  tune,  although  nuirked  in  tlie 
music-books  c.  p.  m,,  and  thus  indicating  some  difli- 
culty,  was  really  as  simple  as  it  was  lively,  and 
carried  the  voice  along  like  the  music  of  a  meadow 
stream : 

10 


148  TUE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  How  happy  is  the  pilgrim's  lot, 
How  free  from  every  nnxious  thought, 

From  worhlly  hope  and  fear! 
Confined  to  neither  court  nor  cell, 
His  soul  dischiins  on  earth  to  dwell — 

Ho  only  sojourns  hero." 

Mrs.  Woods  was  sini^iiig  an  usual  about  her 
work,  wlieii  Jason  Lee  r;ij)ped  at  her  door. 

"  Father  Lee,"  said  Mrs.  Woods,  "  can  I  trust 
my  eyes  ! — coiiie  again  to  see  me,  away  out  here  in 
tlie  timber  i  Well,  you  are  welcome.  I  have  got 
something  on  my  mind,  and  I  have  long  been  want- 
ing to  have  a  talk  with  you.  IIow  is  the  mission 
at  the  Dalles  ?  " 

"It  is  prospering,  but  I  regard  it  as  my  duty  to 
leave  it  and  go  back  to  the  East ;  and  this  may  be  my 
farewell  visit,  though  I  expect  to  come  back  again." 

"Why,  Father  Lee,  what  has  clianged  your 
mind  ?  You  surely  can  not  think  it  your  duty  to 
leave  this  great  country  in  tlie  Oregon !  You  are 
needed  here  if  anywhere  in  this  world." 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  on  account  of  this  country  on 
the  Oregon  being  great,  as  you  call  it,  that  I  must 
go  away.  It  was  once  my  calling  in  life  to  become 
a  missionary  to  the  Indians  of  Oregon,  and  to  see 
this  wonderful  land.  The  same  Voice  that  called 
me  to  that  work  calls  me  again  to  go  back  to  tell 


MRS.  WOODS  MEETS  LITTLE  ROLL  OVER  AGAIN.  149 

the  people  of  tlie  East  of  tlieir  great  opi)ortiinity 
here.  I  owe  it  to  my  country's  future  to  do  tliis, 
I  have  e.'iteii  the  grapes  of  a  promised  hind,  and  I 
must  return  to  my  own  people  with  the  good  re- 
})ort.  I  helieve  that  the  best  life  of  America  will 
yet  he  here — it  seems  to  he  so  revealed  to  me.  My 
mission  was  to  the  Indians ;  it  is  now  to  induce 
colonies  to  come  to  the  Oregon." 

"Well,  each  heart  knows  its  own  calliug  and 
duty,  and  none  of  us  are  led  alike.  Father  Lee, 
Gretchen  has  been  reproviu'  me,  thcnigh  she 
shouldn't,  perhaps,  being  a  girl.  She  was  sassy 
to  me,  but  she  meant  well.  She  is  a  well-meanin' 
girl,  though  I  have  to  l)e  hard  on  her  sometimes — it 
is  my  duty  to  be,  you  know. 

"  Well,  some  months  ago,  more  than  a  year,  an 
Injun  ran  away  with  my  best  saw,  and  that  gave 
me  a  prejudice  against  the  Injuns,  I  su^jposc. 
Afterward,  Young  Eagle's  Plume — Jk'njamin,  the 
chief's  boy — insulted  me  before  the  school  by  takin' 
a  stick  out  of  my  hand,  and  I  came  to  dislike  him, 
and  he  hates  me.  There  are  many  Injuns  in  the 
timber  now,  and  they  all  cast  evil  looks  at  me  when- 
ever I  meet  them,  and  these  things  hint  that  they 
are  goin'  to  capture  me  at  the  Potlatch  and  carry 
me  away.     I  hate  Injuns. 


150  THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBLV. 

"  But  (irc'tclicii  liiis  told  nie  fi  tliiiijj:;  that  touches 
my  feeliu\s.  Slio  says  that  Beiijainiii  lio  says  that  lie 
will  protect  iiie  on  account  of  his  love  for  the  mas- 
ter ;  and  that,  on  account  of  my  love  for  the  good 
Master  of  us  all  and  his  cause,  I  ought  to  show 
a  dillerent  s})irit  toward  the  Injuns.  What  do  yon 
think  ? " 

"Gretchen  is  right,  although  a  girl  should  be 
modest  with  her  elders.  Hatred  only  multiplies 
itself ;  when  one  overcomes  his  evil  passions  he 
gains  others,  and  loses  nothing.     Do  you  see  ^  " 

"But  I  am  always  good  to  those  I  like  and  those 
who  treat  me  w^ell.  Think  how  I  used  to  take  care 
of  the  sick  folk  on  our  way  out  here,  and  what  I 
have  tried  to  do  for  Gretchen  !  " 

"  '  If  ye  love  them  that  love  you,  what  thank 
have  yeV  All  people  love  those  who  love  them — 
the  savages  do.  To  give  up  one's  evil  desires,  and 
to  help  others  by  returning  love  for  hate,  is  the  true 
life.  The  best  friends  in  the  world  that  we  can 
have  are  those  that  we  have  drawn  to  our  hearts  by 
forgiveness.  Do  something  good  to  every  Indian 
that  hates  you,  and  you  will  never  be  carried  away 
captive." 

"  But  TThitman,  remcndier  AYhitman  :  he  showed 
the  right  spirit,  and  the  Injuns  killed  h'uri!^^ 


MRS.  WOODS  MEETS  LITTLE  ROLL  OVER  AGAIN.  151 

"  His  death  was  caused  by  a  inisappivliuusion, 
and  it  made  liiiii  a  martyr.  His  work  lives.  Men 
live  ill  their  work.'" 

"  Well,  Father  Lee,  if  IkMijaniiii  can  overcome 
his  evil  feeliirs  for  his  master,  1  ou^ht  to  do  so  for 
mine,  as  Gretchen  says.  My  bad  s])irit  in  this  mat- 
ter has  lung  troubled  me;  it  has  caused  a  cloud  to 
come  over  me  when  singiii'  hymns.  1  will  give  it 
all  u[)  now — I  will  give  U])  everything,  and  just 
follow  the  butter  spirit.  1  want  to  do  right,  so  that 
I  can  sing  hymns.'' 

AVhen  Father  Lee  left  the  cabin,  ]\rrs.  Woods 
accomj)anied  him  U)  his  boat  on  the  river. 

As  they  were  passing  along  under  the  tall 
spruces  whose  tops  glimmered  in  the  sun,  and 
whose  cool  shachnvs  made  the  trail  delightful  and 
refreshing,  a  black  she-bear  suddenly  rose  up  be- 
fore them,  and  a  cub  started  up  by  her  side.  The 
great  bear  and  the  little  bear  both  stood  on  their 
haunches,  with  their  fore-feet  outstretched  like 
arms,  as  in  great  sur])rise.  !Mrs.  Woods  sto})ped 
and  threw  up  her  arms,  and  Parson  Lee  drew  back. 

Mrs.  Woods  looked  at  the  little  bear,  and  the 
little  bear  at  her. 

"  Roll  over,  roll  over !  "  she  suddenly  exclaimed. 
A  strange  event  followed,  very  strange  indeed  in 


152  THE  LOO  SCriOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

the  ejus  of  the  startled  luissiunary.  The  Httle  bear 
rolled  itself  into  a  ])all,  and  began  to  turn  over  and 
over,  and  to  come  tinvard  them  in  its  sonier.saults. 

The  mother  bear  made  a  peculiar  noise,  dro])ped 
upon  her  four  feet  and  ran  off  into  the  thnber ;  and 
the  little  one,  hearing  the  noise  and  movement, 
leaped  up  and  followed  her. 

"  AVhat  does  that  mean  ?  "  asked  the  missionarv, 
in  astonishment. 

"  That  is  Little  Roll  Over.  I  taught  him  that 
trick  myself.  He  was  once  a  pet  of  mine,  and  he 
ran  away." 

"  Extraordinary  !  "  said  tlic  missionary  ;  "  and  it 
seems  to  me,  if  you  have  such  a  good  influence  over 
bears,  you  might  do  a  great  deal  of  good  among  the 
Indians." 

"  And  I  will,"  said  Mrs.  "Woods.  "  I  mean  to 
live  so  I  can  sing  hymns,  and  feel  right  about  it." 

On  the  return  home,  Mrs.  Woods  looked  every- 
where for  her  pet  bear.  She  did  not  fear  the  old 
bear,  for.these  animals  are  generally  harmless  it  un- 
molested. She  called,  "Eoll  Over!  Roll  Over!" 
when  slie  cauKi  to  the  place  where  she  had  had  the 
adventure.  But  there  was  no  answer  except  from 
the  blue  jays  that  piped  out  their  shrill  call  in  the 
tall  trees. 


MRS.  WOODS  MEETS  LITTLE  ROLL  OVER  .\GAIN.  153 

Mrs.  Woods  caiiiu  lioiiic  to  liuve  a  loii^  liuttlu 
witli  herself.  Her  idea  of  liappiiiess  seemed  to  he 
the  freedom  to  sing  liymns  witli  a  clear  coiihcieiice, 
and  tlie  poor  pioneer  woman's  philosophy  was  not 
very  far  from  right. 


CIIAPTEU   XI. 

MAHLOWI';    MANN'h    NKW    ItoIJINSON    CRUSOE. 

JjKsidks  the  Nurnitivcj  of  Lowiri  Jiiid  Chirko, 
wliich  was  Uisud  in  the  school  as  a  reador,  Mr.  Mann 
made  use  of  another  hook  in  liis  teaching  wljicli 
greatly  delighted  his  pi  j>ils  and  often  awakened 
their  sympathies.  It  was  called  "John  11.  Jevvett 
and  Thompson."  It  presented  a  picture  of  life  on 
the  coast  early  in  the  century.  The  strange  story 
was  much  as  follows  : 

THE   ItOniXSON   CRUSOE   OF    VANCOUVER. 

About  the  year  18(»2  the  ship  Boston,  from 
Boston,  Mass,,  went  to  Hull,  England,  to  secure  a 
cargo  of  goods  to  carry  to  the  Indians  on  the  North- 
west coast  of  America  to  trade  for  furs.  Slie  was 
a  general  trading-vessel,  such  as  roamed  the  seas  of 
the  world  adventurously  at  that  time,  and  often  made 
fortunes  for  the  merchants  of  New  York,  Boston, 
and  other  Atlantic  port  cities. 


MAllLOWK  MANN'S  MOW   IIOUINSON  CRUSOK.  155 

SIk;  whs  coiniiiimdc'd  \)y  Ciiptaiii  .loliii  Suiter,  ji 
clover  nmii  uiid  u  natunil  story-tclkr,  whose  eiij^ii^^- 
iij^  j)ictures  of  travel  were  mrv  t()  fiisciimte  tlit; 
yoiiiii^. 

While  ir  England  this  man  met  a  lad  hy  the 
name  of  John  Rogers  Jewett,  mIio  listened  eagerly 
to  his  romantic  adventures,  and  who  desired  to 
emhark  with  him  for  America,  and  was  allowed  l>y 
his  parents  t(»  make  the  voya<;'e.  The  ship  sailed 
around  C'a])e  Horn  to  Nootka  I>land,  one  of  the 
islands  on  the  west  coast  of  Vancouver  Island  he- 
tvveen  the  forty-ninth  and  fiftieth  parallel.  Here 
the  whole  crew,  with  the  exception  of  younij:  Jewett 
and  a  man  hy  the  name  of  Thompsitn,  were  mas- 
sacred ])y  the  Indians,  and  the  strange  and  trai^ic 
narrative  of  the  survivors  was  an  American  and 
Enjjjlisli  wonder-tale  seventy  years  ago.  Mr.  Jewett 
puhlislied  the  accotnit  of  his  capture  and  sufferings, 
under  the  title  (tf  "John  11.  Jewett  and  Thomp- 
son," or,  to  copy  the  title  of  the  (juaint  old  hook 
before  me,  '"A  Narrative  of  the  Adventures  and 
SuiTerings  of  John  U.  Jewett,  only  Survivor  of  the 
Crew  of  the  Ship  Boston,  (hiring  a  Captivity  of 
nearly  Three  Years  among  the  Savages  of  Nootka 
Sound."  The  book  was  issued  from  London,  Eng- 
land, and  from  Middletown,  Conn.     After  llobin- 


150  TIIK  l.OG  SCIIOOL-IIOL'SK  ON  TIIK  CULl'MIUA. 

K<jn  Cru.sut',  perlmps  no  hook  wiw  more  I'ligorly  rciul 
hy  our  <j;nin(lfjitlR'rH  in  tlit'ir  boyhood  thun  this. 

The  Indiim  king  of  >iootka  was  Miniuiim.  He 
iiHod  to  visit  the  ship,  8ometinies  wearing  ii  wmmkU-u 
iiiiisk  over  hin  face  representing  some  wild  heiist. 
Sucli  masks  are  still  to  be  found  among  the  In- 
dians of  Vaneouver. 

;Ma(itiina  was  at  first  very  friendly  to  Captain 
Salter,  but  inie  day  the  latter  olfended  him,  and  he 
resolved  to  have  his  revenge  by  killing  him  and  the 
crew,  and  destroying  the  ship.  Accordingly,  one 
morning,  after  he  had  been  capering  on  deck  and 
blowing  a  rude  whistle,  he  said  to  the  captain  : 

"  When  do  you  intend  to  sail?" 

"  To-morrow,''  re))lied  the  captain. 

"You  love  salmon — much  in  Frier. Ilv  Cove: 
go,  then,  and  catch  some,"  said  the  chief. 

The  captain  thought  it  very  desirable  to  have  a 
large  8up[)ly  of  ilsh  on  board,  so  he  assented  to  the 
chiefs  proposal,  and,  after  diimer  with  the  latter, 
he  sent  away  a  jolly-boat  or  yawl  with  nine  men  to 
fish  in  Friendly  Cove. 

A  series  of  tragedies  followed.  "  I  went  down 
to  my  visc-bencli  in  the  steerage,"  says  ISIr.  Jewett, 
in  his  Narrative,  "  where  I  was  employed  in  clean- 
ing muskets.     I  had  not  been  there  more  than  an 


MAIILOWK  MAWS  XKW  UoniNSON  CRUSOK.  157 

hour,  wIk'ii  I  lii'iml  a  ^reat  Imstlo  and  cotifiision  on 
<leck.  1  nm  w[»  tliu  stetTa^t;  ntairn,  l»ut  hcarci'ly  \va8 
my  lK'a<l  above  dirk  wliuii  I  wan  caught  \>y  tlif  liair 
l)y  one  (»t'  the  savages.  My  hair  was  short,  and  I 
fell  from  his  hold  into  tlie  steenip'.  As  I  was  fall- 
ing, lie  struck  me  with  an  axe  and  cut  a  deep  gash 
in  my  forehead.  I  ri'iuained  in  a  state  of  suspense 
for  some  time,  when  Maijuina  him.>elf  appeared  at 
the  hatch  and  ordered  me  to  come  up.  AVhat  a 
territic  spectacle  met  my  eyes !  Six  naked  savagen 
stood  in  a  circle  around  me,  covered  with  the  hlood 
of  my  murdered  comrades !  I  thought  that  my 
last  moment  had  come,  and  connnended  my  soul  to 
my  ^[aker. 

"'John,'  said  the  chief,  '  I  speak — you  no  say 
no ;  you  say  no — daggers  come.  "Will  you  become 
my  slave  and  fight  for  me?'  T  answered,  '  Yes.' 
Then  he  told  me  that  he  would  spare  my  life. 

"  Taking  me  by  the  hand,  he  led  me  to  the 
quarter-deck,  where  the  most  horrid  sight  pre- 
sented itself;  the  heads  of  our  unfortunate  captain 
and  his  crew,  to  the  number  of  twenty-five,  were 
arranged  in  a  line. 

"Maquina  then  ordered  me  to  get  tlie  shij) 
under  way  for  ]•  i-iendly  Cove.  AVe  were  there  re- 
ceived by  the  inhabitants  of  the  village  with  loud 


158  TllH  LOG  SCnoOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

bliuiits  of  joy  and  a  liorriblo  dnimmiiig  of  sticks 
upon  tliu  ivjofs  and  sides  of  thoir  houses.  JMaquina 
took  nie  on  shore  to  his  house." 

Young  Jewett  became  a  favorite  of  the  chiefs 
son,  and  was  made  a  member  of  the  tribe.  He  was 
compelled  to  marry  an  Indian  ])rincess,  and  his 
search  for  his  wife  is  a  wonderful  romance,  and 
really  very  poetic,  as  the  marriage  customs  of  the 
tribes  are  associated  with  a  rustic  festival  worthy  of 
a  painter  and  poet.  The  young  princess  chosen 
was  beautifnl,  and  served  him  with  the  most  affec- 
tionate devotion,  but  he  could  not  love  her,  because 
he  had  been  compelled  to  marry  her. 

The  most  remarkable  incidents  of  this  stranire 
narrative  are  associated  with  the  fate  of  those  who 
were  enjxaircd  in  the  massacre  of  the  ofHcers  and 
crew  of  the  Boston,  and  which  show  that  the  ex- 
perience of  retribution  is  a  law  common  to  all  peo- 
ples and  lands. 

The  princii)al  chief  or  sub-chief  among  the  war- 
riors was  Tootooch.  He  had  married  ]\ra(|uina's 
sister.  Tie  raidced  next  to  l\Ia(|uina  in  all.  things 
pertaining  to  war,  and  he  had  been  the  foremost 
leader  and  the  most  merciless  of  conquerors  in  the 
destruction  of  the  Boston.  lie  killed  two  men  on 
shore,  presumably  with  his  own  hand. 


MARLOWE  MANN'S  NEW  ROBINSON  CRUSOK.  I59 

Insanity  is  not  conimon  among  tlic  Indians. 
But  a  terrible  mania  tocjk  possession  of  this  ambi- 
tious warrior.  "While  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
highest  health,"  says  Mr.  .jewett,  "he  was  sud- 
denly seized  with  delirium,  in  which  he  fancied 
that  he  saw  the  ghosts  of  the  two  men  that  he  had 
nnirdered."  The  avenging  vision  followed  liini 
wherever  he  went.  He  was  tilled  with  terror  at 
all  times,  and  at  last  refused  to  eat  to  sustain  his 
life.     The  Indians  forced  food  into  his  mouth. 

Ma(|uiria  was  informed  of  the  terrible  state  of 
the  warrior's  mind  by  his  sister,  TootooclTs  wife. 
IIe\^ent  to  the  haunted  man's  house,  taking  Mr. 
Thompson  and  Mr.  Jewett  with  him.  "We  found 
him  raving  about  the  two  murdered  men,  Hall  and 
Wood,''  says  .lewett.  "  ^[afpiina  placed  provisions 
before  him,  but  he  would  not  eat." 

At  last  the  distressed  tijce^  induced  by  hunger, 
put  forth  his  hand  to  touch  the  food.  But  he  sud- 
denly drew  it  ])ack.  raying  that  Hall  and  Wood 
were  there. 

"  They  w^ill  Tiot  let  me  cat,"  said  he,  with  a  look 
of  despair  and  terror. 

Maquina  pointed  to  Thompson  and  Jewett. 

"  Is  it  they  who  have  bewitched  you  ? "  he 
asked. 


160  THE  LOG  SCUOOL-UOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  Wlk  (no) ;  John  Hashish  (is  good),  Thompson 
Hashish  (is  good)." 

He  arose  and  ])iteonsly  put  liis  hand  on  Jewett's 
sliouluor,  and,  pointing  to  the  food  ollered  him,  he 
said,  "  Eat." 

''  Eat  it  yourself,"  replied  :Mr.  Jewett.  "  Hall 
and  Wood  are  not  there." 

'' Vou  can  not  see  them,"  he  answered;  "I 
can.     I  know  that  you  can  not  see  them." 

"'  What  do  you  do  in  your  own  country  in  such 
cases  as  this  r'  asked  Macpiina. 

"  We  contine  the  person  and  whip  him,"  said 
Jewett. 

The  chief  ordered  that  the  haunted  warrior 
should  he  confined  and  whipped  ;  but  the  pain  did 
not  relieve  the  warrior's  mind  of  the  terrible  vision 
of  the  two  men  that  he  had  killed.  He  grew  more 
wild.  He  would  torture  his  slaves  for  diversion. 
His  wife  fled  from  him.  The  vision  continued 
until  he  l)ecame  completely  exhausted,  and  Death 
came  with  a  merciful  face. 

"  Early  in  June,"  says  jMr.  Jewett,  "  Tootooch, 
the  crazy  chief,  died.  The  whole  village  set  up  a 
loud  cry.  The  body  was  laid  on  a  plank,  and  the 
head  bound  with  a  red  fillet.  It  was  then  wra])ped 
in  an  otter-skin  robe  and   placed  in  a  large  coffin. 


MARLOWE  MANX'S  NEW  ROBINSON  CRL'SOE.  KU 

which  was  ornamented  witli  rows  of  white  shells. 
It  was  buried  bj  night  in  a  cavern." 

The  ii/('('s  or  chiefs  had  discusk'd  often  the 
policy  of  putting  Mr.  Jewett  and  ^fr.  Thompson 
to  death,  and  so  end  all  evidence  of  the  destruction 
of  the  JJoston  in  the  event  of  new  ships  appearing 
on  the  coast.  But  the  spectacle  of  Tootooch  staring 
at  the  ghosts  of  the  men  that  he  had  hilled,  and 
wasting  awaj  amid  days  and  nights  of  horror,  made 
them  fear  that  the  other  warriors  en^i'aLa'd  in  the 
massacre  would  become  affected  in  the  like  way, 
and  deterred  them  from  any  further  violence. 
Jewett  was  at  last  rescued  by  a  trading-ship,  and 
was  taken  to  the  Columbia  IJiver,  wliere  he  arrived 
shortly  after  the  visit  of  Lewis  and  Clarke,  of  the 
famous  expediti»ui  that  bears  these  names.  lie 
finally  came  to  New  England  and  settled  in  ]\Iid- 
dletown.  Conn.  His  history  gives  a  very  pictur- 
esque view  of  the  habits  and  customs  of  th«  In- 
dians on  the  Northwest  coast  nearly  a  century  ago. 
The  book  can  be  found  in  anticjuarian  libraries,  and 
should  1)0  republished  in  the  interest  of  American 
folk-lore.  The  truth  of  the  incidents  gives  the 
whole  narrative  a  vivid  and  intense  interest ;  it 
reads  like  De  Foe. 


CITAPTER   XII. 

()LI>   JOE    MP:EK    AM)    MK.    SPAULDINO. 

One  (liiv  a  man  in  a  laickskin  habit  cninc  to  the 
door  of  the  scliool-liouse  and  looked  in  iij)on  the 
school.  Ili.s  face  was  that  of  a  leader  of  men,  hard 
and  powerful  ;  one  could  see  that  it  feared  nothing, 
and  that  it  looked  with  contempt  on  whatever  was 
artificial,  affe'3ted,  or  insincere.  His  form  had  the 
strength  and  mettle  of  a  pioneer.  lie  rapped  a 
loud,  hard  rap,  and  said,  in  a  sturdy  tone : 

"  i\[ay  I  come  in  ?  " 

The  master  welcomed  him  cordially  and  courte- 
ously, and  said : 

"This  is  Mr.  Meek,  I  believe  ?" 

"  Yes,  old  Joe  Meek,  the  jnonecr — you  have 
heard  of  me." 

"  Yes,  yes,"'  said  IMr.  IMann.  "  You  have  caught 
the  spirit  of  Oregon — you  are  Oregon.  You  have 
made  the  interest  of  this  great  country  your  life ; 
I  honor  you  for  it.     I  feel  the  same  spirit  coming 


OLD   JOK   iMKKK   AND   AIR.  SPAULDINCJ.      103 

over  nie.  Wliat  we  do  liere  is  done  for  a  tliousaiid 
years,  for  here  the  ^reat  Hfe  of  tlie  Aiighi-Saxon 
race  is  destined  to  eoiiie.  I  can  see  it ;  1  feel  it. 
The  morning  twilight  of  time  is  about  me.  J  can 
liear  tlie  Oregon  calling — calling;  to  teach  here  is 
a  y-lorious  life  ;  the  whole  (»f  liumanitv  is  in  it. 
I  have  no  wish  to  return  to  the  East  again." 

"  Stranger,  jj-ive  me  vour  hand.'" 

The  New  England  sclutolmaster  tooh  the  hard 
hand  of  the  old  ])ioneer,  and  the  two  stood  there  in 
silence. 

The  children  could  not  understand  tlic  great, 
soul-ex[)anding  sym})athy  that  made  these  two  men 
friends.  They  gazed  on  ^fr.  IVfeek's  buckskin  jacket 
and  trousei'8  with  curiosity,  for  th(y  were  pictui-- 
esque  with  their  furs,  belts,  and  weapons,  and  lie 
looked  like  a  warrior  or  a  forest  knight  clad  in 
armor. 

He  wore  the  same  buckskin  suit  when  he  ap- 
peared in  AVashington  as  the  delegate  to  Congress 
from  Oregon.  It  was  at  the  time  of  Polk  and 
Dallas,  and  not  a  ])erson  in  Washington  j)robably 
knew  him  when  he  nuule  his  a]»]»earance  at  the 
Congressional  Hotel. 

The  people  at  the  hotel    stared  at  him   as   the 

children  did  now.     lie  went  into  the  great  dining- 
11 


•  104  THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  OX  THE  COLUMBIA. 

room  witli  tlio  other  Coiigressmeii,  l)ut  ulone  and 
uiikiiovvn.  The  eoh)rccl  waiters  ]aiiy;hed  at  him  u.s 
ho  took  his  seat    ;t  tlie  table. 

The  (jther  [)e()ple  at  the  tahU'  were  served,  hut 
no  one  eame  near  liim.  At  last  he  tnrned  and 
faeed  a  hurrying  eolored  man,  and,  in  a  voice  that 
sileneed  the  room,  said  : 

"  Waiter,  come  here !  " 

The  waiter  rolled  up  liis  e}'es  and  said,  "  Sir?  " 

"  Have  you  any  big  meat  to-day  i  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Any  bear  ?  " 

"  Any  bear  ?  bear  ?     Xo,  sir." 

"  Any  buffalo  ?  " 

"Any  buffalo — buffalo?  "Where  did  you  come 
from  'i     No,  sii"." 

"  Well,  waiter  you  may  bring  me  what  you 
have." 

The  waiter  went  away  with  white  teeth,  and  a 
smile  and  titter  jiassed  around  the  table.  The 
waiter  returned  with  the  usual  first  course  of  the 
meal,  and  was  about  to  huriy  away,  M'hen  the  old 
pioneer  took  out  his  jMstol  and  laid  it  down  on  the 
table,  saying : 

"Waiter,  you  stand  there,  T  may  M-ant  you  ;  and 
if  anybody  M-ants  to  know  who  I  am,  tell  him  T 


OLD  JOE  MEHK  AND  Mli.  SPAL'LDINO.       105 

am  Hon.  Joseph  Meek,  the  clclogate  of  the  people 
of  ()iv<^oii." 

When  it  was  known  who  ^[r.  ^leek  was,  he  was 
met  hy  Mr.  Dallas,  the  courtly  Vice-President. 

"  I  will  attend  you  to  the  reception  this  after- 
noon, where  you  will  meet  the  wives  of  the  Con- 
gressmen," said  he.  ''  I  will  call  for  you  at 
three." 

The  Vice-President  called,  and  was  suri)rised  to 
find  Mr.  Meek  still  in  his  buckskins. 

"  You  do  not  intend  to  go  in  that  habit  to  the 
reception  i  "  said  he. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Meek,  "or  else  not  go  at  all. 
In  the  first  place,  I  have  nothing  else  to  wear,  and 
what  is  good  enough  for  me  to  wear  anu)ng  the 
people  of  Oregon  is  good  enough  for  their  repre- 
sentative here." 

"We  have  given,  in  these  two  anecdotes,  very 
nearly  Mr.  Meek's  own  words. 

A  few  days  after  the  visit  of  this  most  extraor- 
dinary man,  another  visitor  came.  She  was  an 
earnest-looking  woman,  on  an  Indian  pony,  and 
there  was  a  benevolence  in  her  face  and  manner 
that  drew  the  whole  school  into  innnediate  sym- 
pathy with  her.  The  lady  was  Mrs.  Spaulding,  one 
of  the  so-called  "  Prides  of  Oregon."     Her  husband 


ICO  TllK   !/)(}  SCHOOL-IlorSK  ON  TIIH  COLUMIHA. 

luid  (!<»nu;  to  the  'JVrritory  with  Dr.  Whitiiiun  uiul 
his  hridt'.  Tiic  h)n<:;  missionary  journey  was  the 
bridal  tour  of  Afrs.  AVhitiiiaii  and  Mrs.  SiJauldiiiir. 
Thi'v  WL'rc  the  iirst  wliite  woiuun  who  crossed  the 
Roeky  iMountains.  It  was  related  of  AFrs.  Spauld- 
inj;,  who  had  a  heautifnl  voice,  an<l  was  a  niein- 
her  of  a  cliurch  (juartet  or  choir  in  a  country  town 
in  New  York,  as  a  leadin<;  singer,  that,  just  beforcj 
leaving  the  place  for  her  long  horseback  journey 
of  more  than  two  thousand  miles,  she  sang  in  the 
cliurch  the  hymn  bi-ginning — 

"  Yes,  my  native  land.  1  love  thee," 

in  such  an  affecting  manner  as  to  silence  the  rest  of 
the  choir,  and  melt  the  congregation  to  tears  : 

"  Homo,  thy  joys  are  passinc;  lovely, 
Joys  no  stnuifjor's  lioart  can  tell ; 
Happy  sc'i'iics  and  happy  country, 
Can  I  bid  you  all  farewell? 

Can  1  leave  thee, 
Far  in  heathen  lands  to  dwell  f  " 

This  lady  addressed  the  school,  and  spoke  feel- 
ingly of  the  condition  of  the  Indian  race,  and  of 
the  field  for  the  teacher  in  the  valleys  of  the 
Columbia. 

Gretclien  listened  to  the  address  with  open 
heart.      There  are  moments  of  revelation  wdien  a 


OLD  JOK  MKKK   AND   Mil.  Sl'AULDIXG.       lf;7 

knoNvlt'dgu  of  ouu'h  triiu  cullini;  in  life  conies  to  tiie 
«oul.  Faith  as  a  Itliiul  but  true  «j;ui<le  vanisiies,  and 
tiie   eve  sees.       Sucli   was    the    hour   to   (Jretehen. 

I' 

Siie  had  often  felt,  when  playing  on  the  violin,  that 
the  inspiration  that  «;ave  such  influence  to  her 
music  shouhl  he  used  in  teaching-  the  tribes  that 
were  so  suscepible  to  its  inlluence.  This  feeling 
had  grown  in  the  playing  and  singing  of  a  school- 
song,  the  words  of  which  were  written  by  Mrs. 
Hunter,  an  Knglish  lady,  and  the  wife  of  the 
famous  Dr.  Ilimter,  which  showed  the  heroism  and 
fortitude  of  the  Indian  character  : 

"  Tlio  sun  sots  at  nij,'lit  uud  the  stars  shun  tlio  day, 
Hut  j^lorv  fi'iuiuns  \vlu>n  tlio  li^lit  fades  away; 
Ht'j^in,  yo  tonnciitors,  your  tliroats  an^  in  vain, 
For  the  son  of  Allinooniook  will  novt-r  compluin." 

The  tune  or  melody  was  a(hniral)ly  ada])te(l  to 
tlie  violin.  Ik'ii janiiii  loved  to  hear  it  sung,  and 
Gretchen  was  pleased  to  sing  and  to  play  it. 

Mr.  ^rann  asked  (iretchen  to  ])lay  for  Mrs. 
Spaulding,  and  siie  chose  this  simple  but  expressive 
melody.  lie  then  asked  the  school  to  sing,  and  he 
selected  the  words  of 

"  Yes,  my  native  land,  I  love  thee," 
to  the  music  of  Rousseau's  Dream.    ^Nfrs.  Spaulding 
could  hardly  keep  from  joining  in   the  tune  and 


1(58  TIIH  LOG  SCIIUUL-IIOUHK  ON  THE  CULL'MIUA. 

liynin,  tlicii  \\v\\  known  to  all  the  niLstiionury  pio- 
nociu     At  the  wohIh — 

•'  III  till'  desert  lei  ino  Iiil)C)r, 
On  lliu  inouiitaiii  let  inc  tell," 

licr  liciiutiful  voice  rose  iil>ove  tlie  Bcliool,  and 
(iretelien'H  iingers  tremliled  us  ishe  played  tlie  air. 

Ah  tlie  lady  rode  away,  Ciretelien  felt  tears 
eoniin*^  into  her  eyes.  The  school  was  dismissed, 
and  the  i)U[)ils  went  away,  but  (Jretcheti  lingered 
behind.  She  told  nenjanuu  to  go  to  the  lodn^c,  and 
tliat  she  would  follow  liini  after  ishe  had  had  a  talk 
with  the  master. 

"That  song  is  beautifid,"  said  Clretchen.  "  '  Tn 
the  desert  let  me  hibor.'  Tliat  is  what  I  would  like 
to  do  all  my  life.  Do  you  suppose  that  I  could  be- 
come a  teacher  among  the  Indians  like  Mrs.  Spauld- 
ing  ?  It  would  make  me  perfectly  hai)py  if  I  could. 
If  I  were  to  study  hard,  would  you  help  me  to  iind 
such  a  place  in  life?" 

Gretchen's  large  eyes,  filled  with  tears,  were 
bent  earnestly  on  the  face  of  Mr.  IMaiin. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "and  if  I  can  inspire  you  only 
to  follow  me  in  such  work,  it  will  repay  me  for 
an  unknown  grave  in  the  forests  of  the  Colum- 
bia." 

Gretchen  started;   she  trembled  she  knew  not 


OLD   .loK    MKKK    AND    Mil.  Si'All.DINd.       H\\) 

^vlly,  tlu'ii  I>iiri('<l  lior  fuce  in  her  anus  on  the  rmle 
lot;  (h'sk  and  sohhcd. 

She  raised  her  head  at  last,  ami  wi-nt  <Mit,  sink- 
ing— 

"  In  tlio  (lesort  lot  mo  labor." 

Tt  was  a  glorious  sundown  in  autunni.  The 
hurning  disk  of  tlie  sun  liung  in  ('{(MidH  of  [)earl  like 
an  <»ri(.'l-windo\v  in  a  niagnitieent  ten^jle.  illack 
shadows  fi'll  on  the  plaeid  waters  of  the  Colundiia, 
and  in  the  lini[>id  air  under  the  hlutTs  Indians 
fished  for  salmon,  and  dueks  and  grehes  s]>orted 
in  river  weeds. 

l^farlowe  ^fann  went  away  from  tlu?  log  school- 
house  that  night  a  happy  man.  lie  had  seen  that 
Ids  plans  in  hfe  were  ah'eady  budding,  lie  cared 
little  for  himself,  Init  oidv  for  tlu  -ause  to  which 
he  devoted  his  life — to  begin  Chri  Ji  educati<»n 
in  the  great  empire  of  Oregon. 

T>ut  how  unexpected  this  episode  was,  an<l  how 
far  from  his  early  dreams  !  His  spirit  had  inspired 
first  of  all  this  orphan  girl  from  tlu!  lihine,  who 
had  bee!i  led  here  bv  a  si-ries  of  stranjje  events. 
This  girl  had  learned  faith  from  her  father's 
])rajers.  On  the  Tlhine  she  had  never  so  much  as 
heard  of  the  Cohnnbia — the  new  iihine  of  the  sim- 
dowTi  seas. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


A    WAUNINO. 


One  evening,  as  Gretclien  was  sitting  outside  of 
the  lodge,  she  saw  tlie  figure  of  a  woman  moving 
cautiously  about  in  the  dim  openings  of  the  fir- 
trees.  It  was  not  the  form  of  an  Indian  woman — 
its  movement  was  mysterious.  Gretclien  started  up 
and  stood  looking  into  the  darkening  shadows  of 
the  firs.  Suddenly  the  form  came  out  of  the  clear- 
ing— it  M'as  Mrs.  Woods.  She  waved  her  hand  and 
beckoned  to  Gretclien,  and  then  drew  back  into  the 
forest  and  disaj)peared. 

Gretchen  went  toward  the  openings  where  Mrs. 
Woods  had  so  suddenly  and  strangely  appeared. 
But  no  one  was  there.  She  wondered  what  the 
secret  of  the  mysterious  episode  could  be.  She  re- 
turned to  the  lodge,  but  said  nothing  about  what 
she  had  seen.  She  passed  a  sleepless  night,  and  re- 
solved to  go  to  see  her  foster-mother  on  the  follow- 
ing day. 


A   WARNING.  171 

So,  after  school  tho  next  afternoon,  she  returned 
to  her  old  home  for  a  brief  visit,  and  to  gain  an 
explanation  of  the  strange  event  of  the  evening 
before. 

She  found  Mrs.  "Woods  very  sad,  and  evidently 
troul)led  by  some  ominous  experience. 

"  So  you  saw  me?"  was  her  tirst  Habitation.  ""  T 
didn't  dare  to  c(jme  any  further.  They  did  not  see 
me — did  they  ?  " 

"  But,  mother,  why  did  you  go  away — why  did 
you  come  to  the  lodge  ?  " 

"  O  Gretchen,  husl)and  has  been  at  home  from 
the  shingle-mill,  and  he  has  told  me  something 
dreadful ! " 

"What,  mother?" 

"  There's  a  conspiracy  !  " 

"Where?" 

"Among  the  Injuns.  A  friendly  Injun  told 
husband  in  secret  that  there  would  be  no  more  seen 
of  the  log  school-house  after  the  Potlatch." 

"  Don't  fear,  mother ;  the  chief  and  Benjamin 
will  j)rotect  that." 

"  But  that  isn't  all,  Gretchen.  Oh,  I  am  so  glad 
that  you  have  come  home!  There  are  dark  shad- 
ows around  us  everywhere.  I  can  feel  'em — can't 
you?     The  atmosphere  is  all  full  of  dark  faces  and 


172  THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

evil  tliouglits.  I  can't  bear  to  Hleej)  alone  here 
now.  Gretehen,  there's  a  plot  to  capture  the 
schoolmaster." 

"  Don't  fear,  mother.  I  know  Umatilla — lie 
will  never  permit  it." 

"But,  Gretehen,  the  Injun  told  husband  some- 
thing awful." 

"  What  ? " 

"  That  the  schoolmaster  would  one  day  perish 
as  Dr.  Whitman  did.  Dr.  Whitman  was  stricken 
down  by  the  Injun  whom  he  regarded  as  his  best 
friend,  and  he  never  knew  who  dealt  the  blow.  He 
went  out  of  life  like  one  smitten  by  lightning.  O 
Gretehen  ! " 

"But,  mother,  I  do  not  fear.  The  Indians 
thought  that  Dr.  Whitman  was  a  conjurer.  We 
make  j)eoj)le  true,  the  master  says,  by  putting  confi- 
dence in  them.  I  believe  in  the  old  chief  and  in 
Benjamin,  and  there  will  no  evil  ever  come  to  the 
schoolmaster  or  the  log  school-house." 

"  Gretehen,  are  you  sure  ?  Then  I  did  not 
bring  you  away  out  here  for  nothing,  did  I  ?  Yon 
may  be  the  angel  of  deliverance  of  us  all.  Who 
knows?  But,  Gretehen,  I  haven't  told  you  all 
yet." 

Mrs.  Woods's  face  clouded  again. 


A  WARNING.  173 

"  The  Injun  told  husband  that  some  of  tlie 
warriors  had  formed  a  ph>t  against  Tne,  and  that,  if 
they  were  to  capture  nie,  they  would  torture  me. 
Gretchen,  I  am  afraid.     Don't  you  ])ity  me  ?  " 

"  Mother,  I  know  my  i)ower  over  the  chief  and 
Benjamin,  and  I  know  the  power  of  a  chiefs  sense 
of  honor.  I  do  ])ity  you,  you  are  so  distressed. 
But,  mother,  no  evil  will  ever  come  to  you  where  I 
am,  nor  the  school  where  I  am.  I  am  going  to  be  a 
teacher  among  these  Indians,  if  I  live ;  I  feel  this 
calling,  and  njy  work  will  somehow  begin  here." 

"  A  teacher  among  the  Injuns  !  You  ?  You  a 
teacher?  Arc  anvils  going  to  iiy  ?  Here  lam,  a 
poor  lone  woman,  away  out  here  three  thousand 
miles  from  home,  and  tremblin'  all  over,  at  every 
sound  that  I  hear  at  night,  for  fear  I  shall  be 
attacked  by  Injuns,  and  you  are  dreamin',  with  your 
head  all  full  of  poetry,  of  goin'  away  and  leavin' 
me,  the  best  friend  that  you  ever  had  on  the  earth,  as 
good  as  a  mother  to  you ;  of  goin'  away — of  leav- 
in' me,  to  teach  a  lot  of  savages !  Gretchen,  I 
knew  that  the  world  was  full  of  empty  heads,  but  I 
never  realized  how  empty  the  human  heart  is  until 
now  !     Been  a  mother  to  you,  too  !  " 

"  O  mother,  I  never  thought  of  leavin'  you  un- 
less you  wished  it." 


174:  THE  LOG  SCnOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"\Vliat  did  you  think  was  goin'  to  become  of 
1110  ?  I  never  kissed  any  child  hut  you,  and  soniu- 
tinios,  wlien  you  are  real  good,  I  feel  just  as  though 
1  was  your  mother." 

"  I  thought  that  you  would  help  me." 

"  Help  you,  what  doin'  ?  " 

"  To  teach  the  Indians." 

"  To  teach  the  Injuns — Indians  you  call  'em  ! 
I'd  like  to  teach  one  Injun  to  bring  back  my  saw  ! 
I  never  tried  to  teach  but  one  Injun — and  he  was 
him.  You  can't  nuike  an  eagle  run  arohid  a  door- 
yard  like  a  goose,  and  you  can't  teach  an  Injun  to 
saw  wood — the  first  thing  you  know,  the  saw  will  be 
missin'. — But  how  I  am  runnin'  on !  I  do  have 
a  good  deal  of  prejudice  against  the  savages ;  never- 
theless— " 

"  I  knew,  mother,  that  you  would  say  '  never- 
theless.' It  seems  to  me  that  word  is  your  good 
spirit.  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  what  thought 
came  to  your  mind  when  you  said  that  word." 

"  '  Nevertheless  ? '  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  the  Master—" 

"  He  said—" 

"  Yes — preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature ! 
I  suppose  that  meant  Injuns  and  all." 


A   WARNING.  175 

"  Yes — lie  said  '  teach  ' — so  the  schoolmaster 
explained  it." 

"  Did  he?  "Well,  I  ought  to  obey  it  in  spirit — 
hadn't  I  ? — or  at  least  not  hinder  others.  I  might 
help  you  teach  it  if  I  could  get  into  the  right 
(Spirit.  But  what  put  that  thought  into  your 
head  ? " 

"  Mrs.  Spaulding,  the  missionary,  has  heen  to 
visit  the  school.  She  sang  so  beautifully!  These 
were  the  words : 

" '  In  the  desert  let  me  labor, 
On  the  mountain  let  me  toll.' 

"When  she  sung  that,  it  all  came  to  me — wiiat  I 
was — what  I  was  sent  into  the  world  to  do — what 
was  the  cause  of  your  loving  me  and  bringing  me 
out  here — I  saw  a  plan  in  it  all.  Then,  too,  it  came 
to  me  that  you  would  at  first  not  see  the  calling  as 
I  do,  but  that  you  would  say  neverthehss,  and  help 
me,  and  that  we  would  work  together,  and  do  some 
good  in  the  world,  you  and  I.     Oh !  I  saw  it  all." 

"  Gretchen,  did  you  see  all  that?  Do  you  think 
that  the  spirit  has  eyes,  and  that  they  see  true  ? 
But  how  could  I  begin  ?     The  Injuns  all  hate  me." 

"  IVIake  them  love  you." 

"  How  ? " 

"  Say  nevertheless  to  them." 


17(5  TIIK  LOG  SCIIOOI^IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMRIA. 

"  Well,  (Jrctchcn,  you  are  a  good  girl,  and  1  am 
sorry  for  the  liard  things  that  1  liavo  said.  I  do 
not  feel  that  I  have  shown  just  the  right  spirit 
toward  J»enjanjin.  ]>ut  he  lias  said  that  lie  will  not 
do  me  any  luirm,  for  the  sake  of  his  master,  and  I 
am  willin'  to  give  up  my  will  for  my  Master.  It 
is  those  that  give  up  their  desires  that  liave  their 
desires  in  this  world,  and  anybody  who  docs  an 
injury  to  another  makes  for  himself  a  judgment- 
day  of  some  sort.  You  may  tell  Ijenjamin  that  I 
am  real  sorry  for  bein'  hard  to  him,  and  that,  if  he 
will  come  over  and  see  me,  Til  give  him  a  carved 
pi  1)0  that  husband  nuxde.  Kow,  Gretchen,  you  may 
go,  and  I'll  sit  down  and  think  a  spell.  Til  be 
dreadful  lonely  when  you're  gone." 

Gretchen  kissed  her  foster-mother  at  the  door, 
and  said  : 

"  Your  new  spirit,  mother,  will  make  us  both  so 
happy  in  the  future  !  "We'll  work  together.  What 
the  master  teaclies  me,  I'll  teach  you." 

"  AYliat— books  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  O  Gretchen,  your  heart  is  real  good !  But 
see  here — my  hair  is  gray.  Oh,  I  am  sorry — what 
a  woman  I  might  have  been  !  " 

Gretchen    lay    down  in  the  lodge    that  night 


A  WARNING.  177 

boslde  the  dusky  wife  of  the  old  cliiof.  The  fold.-* 
of  the  tent  were  open,  and  the  cool  winds  emne  in 
from  the  Colunihiii,  under  the  dim  light  of  the 
moon  and  stars. 

The  tc2>cfi,  or  tent,  was  made  of  skins,  and  was 
adorned  with  picture-writinj:; — Indian  poetry  (if  so 
it  might  he  called).  Overhead  were  clusters  of 
l)cautiful  feathers  and  wings  of  birds.  The  old 
chief  loved  to  tell  her  stories  of  these  strange  and 
l)eautiful  wings.  There  were  the  wings  of  the 
condor,  of  the  hald  and  the  golden  eagle,  of  the 
duck-hawk,  pigeon-hawk,  sfpiirrel-hawk,  of  the  saj)- 
sucker,  of  the  eider  duck,  and  a  Zenaider-like  dove. 
Higher  up  were  long  wings  of  swans  and  albatrosses, 
heads  of  horned  owls,  and  beaks  of  the  lauirhinj; 
goose.  Througli  the  still  air,  from  some  dusky 
shallow  of  the  river  came  the  metallic  calls  of  the 
river  birds,  like  the  trumpeting  swan.  The  girl 
lay  waking,  happy  in  recalling  the  spirit  with 
which  her  foster-mother  had  accepted  her  plan  of 
life. 

Suddenly  her  sensitive  spirit  became  aware  of 
something  imusual  and  strange  at  the  opening  of 
the  tent.  There  was  a  soft,  light  step  without,  a 
guarded  footfall.  Then  a  tall,  dark  shadow  dis- 
tinctly appeared,  with  a  glitter  of  mother-of-pearl 


178  TIIR  LOG  SCnOOIi-noUSK  ON  TIIK  COLUMBIA. 

ornainonts  and  a  waving  of  plumes.  It  stood  there 
like  a  ghost  of  a  vivid  fancy,  for  a  time.  Greteh- 
en's  heart  heat.  It  was  not  an  unusual  thin«^  for 
an  Indian  to  eome  to  the  ttjxc  late  in  the  eveniii|x; 
but  there  was  soniethiuj^  mysterious  and  ominous  iu 
the  hearing  and  atmosphere  of  this  shadowv  visitor. 
The  form  stepped  within  the  opening  of  the  tent, 
and  a  voiee  whispered,  '' I'matilla,  awake!'' 

The  old  chief  raibed  himself  on  his  elbow  with 
an  "  Ugh  !  " 

"  Come  ont  under  the  moon." 

The  old  chief  arose  and  went  out,  and  the  two 
shadowy  forms  disa])peared  among  a  column  of 
Hj)ruce8  on  the  musical  ]»anks  of  the  Columbia. 

Gretchen  could  not  sleep.  The  two  Indians 
returned  late,  and,  as  they  parted,  Gretchen  heard 
Umatilla's  deep  voice  say,  '••  No  !  " 

Her  fears  or  instincts  told  her  that  the  interview 
had  reference  to  plots  which  were  osociated  with 
the  great  Potlatch,  now  near  at  hand.  She  had 
heard  the  strange  visitor  say,  "  The  moon  is  grow- 
ing," and  there  was  something  shadowy  in  the  very 
Umo,  in  which  the  words  were  sjxtkcn. 

lyfrs.  Woods  sat  down  in  her  home  of  bark  and 
splints  all  alone  after  Gretchen's  departure. 

"  She  offers  to  teach  ine,"  she  said  to  herself. 


A   WARN  I  NO.  170 

"  I  am  Ko  sorry  tliat  I  wits  not  h1»K'  to  tnich  ]wv.  I 
never  read  imicli,  unv  wav,  until  I  came  uimIit  the 
influence  of  the  Alctliody.  I  Tni<^'ht  have  taii^'lit 
Ijor  spiritual  thin;^s — any  one  can  liave  spiritUul 
knowlcdj^c,  and  tliat  is  the  hi^diest  of  all.  iJut  I 
liave  loved  my  own  will,  and  to  give  vent  to  my 
temper  and  touijue.  I  will  change  it  all.  There  are 
times  when  I  am  mv  better  self.  I  will  onlv  talk 
and  decide  upon  what  is  hest  in  life  at  such  times  as 
these.  That  would  make  my  hetter  nature  grow. 
AVhen  I  am  out  of  sorts  I  will  he  silentdike. 
Heaven  liel])  me  !  it  is  hard  to  hegln  all  these  things 
M'hen  one's  liair  is  turnin'  j/rav,  and  1  never  knew 
any  one  f<  gray  luiir  to  turn  young  again." 

She  sat  in  the  twilight  crying  over  herself,  ai»d 
at  last  sang  the  mournful  min(>r  measures  of  a  very 
quaint  old  hymn  with  a  peculiar  old  history: 

"  From  whence  doth  this  union  arise 
That  hat  red  is  I'onfiiiercd  by  lovef 
It  fastens  our  souls  in  such  ties 
As  distance  and  time  can't  remove.'* 

The  October  moon  came  up  larger  and  larger 
night  by  night.  It  stood  on  the  verge  of  the  liori- 
zon  now  in  the  late  afternoon,  as  if  to  see  tlie  re- 
splendent setting  of  the  sun.     One  wandered  along 

the  cool  roads  at  the  ])arting  of  day  between  the 
12 


180  THE  LOU  SCllOOL-UOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMlilA. 

red  HUii  in  thu  west  and  thu  goldcMi  moon  in  tliu 
eartt,  and  felt  in  tlio  light  of  the  two  worldn  tlio  niul- 
ancholy  cliango  in  the  atmospheres  of  the  year. 
The  old  volcanoes  glistened,  for  a  wintry  crust  was 
widening  over  their  long-dead  ovens.  Mount  Saint 
Helens,  as  the  far  range  which  led  up  to  the  relic 
of  the  ancient  lava-floods  that  is  now  known  hy 
that  name  was  called  hy  the  settlers,  was  wonder- 
fully beautiful  in  the  twilights  of  the  sun  and 
moon.  Mount  Hood  was  a  celestial  glory,  and  the 
shadows  of  the  year  softened  the  glimmering  glo- 
ries of  the  Columbia.  The  boatman's  call  echoed 
long  and  far,  and  the  crack  of  the  flint-lock  gun 
leaped  in  its  reverberations  from  hill  to  liill  as 
though  the  air  was  a  succession  of  hollow  cham- 
bers. Water-fowl  filled  the  streams  and  drifted 
through  the  air,  and  the  forests  seemed  filled  with 
young  and  beautiful  aninuils  full  of  happy  life. 


CUAPTER  XIV. 


TUE    I'OTLATCll. 


A  PoTLATcii  amon^  the  tribes  of  tho  Northwest 
means  a  feast  at  which  some  wealtliy  Iiulian  gives 
away  to  liis  own  people  or  to  a  friendly  tribe  all 
that  he  has.  For  this  generosity  he  becomes  a 
councilor  or  wise  man,  or  judge,  an  attendant  on 
the  chief  in  public  affairs,  and  is  held  in  especial 
honor  during  the  rest  of  his  life. 

To  attain  this  honor  of  chief  man  or  councilor, 
many  an  ambitious  young  Indian  labors  for  years 
to  amass  wampum,  blankets,  and  canoes.  The  feast 
at  which  he  exchanges  these  for  political  honors  is 
very  dramatic  and  picturesque.  It  is  usually  held 
at  the  time  of  the  full  moon,  and  lasts  for  several 
days  and  nights.  One  of  the  princij)al  features 
is  the  TamanonSy  or  Spirit -dance,  which  takes 
place  at  night  amid  blazing  torches  and  deafening 
drums. 


182  THE  LOG  SCnOOL-IIOUSE  ON  TUE  COLUMBIA. 

A  chief  rarely  gives  a  Potlatcli ;  he  has  no  need 
of  lionors.  But  Umatilhi  desired  to  close  his  long 
and  beneficent  chieftainship  with  a  gift-feast.  He 
loved  his  peo})le,  and  there  seemed  to  him  something 
noble  in  giving  away  all  his  private  possessions  to 
them,  and  trusting  the  care  of  his  old  age  to  thtir 
hearts.  His  chief  men  had  done  this,  and  had 
gained  by  it  an  influence  which  neither  power  nor 
riches  can  attain.  This  supreme  influence  over  the 
hearts  of  his  jjeople  lie  desired  to  possess.  The 
gift-feast  w^as  held  to  be  the  noblest  service  that  an 
Indian  could  render  his  race. 

At  the  great  Potlatcli  he  would  not  only  give 
away  his  private  goods,  bnt  would  take  leave  of  the 
chieftainship  which  he  had  held  for  half  a  century. 
It  was  his  cherished  desire  to  see  Benjamin  made 
chief.  His  heart  had  gone  into  the  yonng  heart  of 
the  boy,  and  he  longed  to  see  The  Light  of  the 
Eagle's  Plume,  sitting  in  his  place  amid  the  council- 
ors of  the  nation  and  so  beginning  a  new  history  of 
the  ancient  people. 

The  full  moon  of  October  is  a  night  sun  in  the 
empires  of  the  Colnmbia  and  the  Puget  Sea.  No 
nights  in  the  world  can  be  more  clear,  histrous,  and 
splendid  than  those  of  the  mellowing  autumn  in  the 
vallevs  of  Monnt  Saint  Helens,  Mount  Hood,  and 


Af  the  Camtdta  or  l/te  Columbif. 


THE  POTLATCn.  183 

the  Cohiinbia.  Tlio  iiioun  rises  over  the  crystal 
peaks  and  domes  like  a  living  glory,  and  mounts 
the  deep  sky  amid  the  pale  stars  like  a  royal  torch- 
hearer  of  the  sun.  The  Columbia  is  a  rolling  Hood 
of  silver,  and  the  gigantic  trees  of  the  centuries 
heeome  a  ghostly  and  shadowy  s]*!ondor.  There  is 
a  deep  and  reverent  silence  everywhere,  save  the 
cry  of  the  water-fuwl  in  the  high  air  and  the  plash 
of  the  Cascades.  Even  the  Chinook  winds  cease  to 
blow,  and  the  pine-tops  to  murmur. 

It  was  such  a  night  that  the  Potlatch  began.  On 
an  open  plateau  overlooking  the  Columbia  the  old 
chief  had  caused  a  large  platform  to  be  built,  and  on 
this  were  piled  all  his  canoes,  his  stores  of  blankets, 
his  wampum,  and  his  regal  ornaments  and  imple- 
ments of  war.  Around  the  plateau  were  high  heaps 
of  pine-boughs  to  be  lighted  during  the  Spirit- 
dance  so  as  to  roll  a  dark  cloud  of  smoke  under  the 
bright  light  of  the  high  moon,  and  cause  a  weird 
and  dusky  atmosphere. 

The  sun  set ;  the  shadows  of  night  began  to 
fall,  but  the  plateau  was  silent.  Kot  a  human 
form  was  to  be  seen  anywhere,  not  even  on  the 
river.  Stars  came  out  like  lam])s  set  in  celestial 
windows,  and  sprinkled  their  rays  on  the  crimson 
curtains  of  the  evening. 


184  TUE  LOG  SCnOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

The  glaciers  on  Mount  Hood  began  to  kindle 
as  with  silver  lires.  The  east  seemed  like  a  lifting 
gate  of  light.     The  great  moon  was  rising. 

Ilark  !  At  the  lirst  ray  of  the  moon  there  are 
heard  low,  mysterious  sounds  everywhere.  The 
forests  are  full  of  them  —  calls,  like  the  coyote's 
bark,  or  bird-calls,  or  secret  signals.  They  are 
human  voices.  They  answer  each  other.  There 
are  thousands  of  voices  calling  and  answering. 

The  full  moon  now  hangs  low  over  the  for- 
ests, golden  as  the  morning  sun  in  the  mists  of 
the  calm  sea.  There  is  a  piercing  cry  and  a 
roll  of  war -drums,  and  suddenly  the  edges  of 
tlie  forest  are  full  of  leaping  and  dancing  forms. 
The  ])lateau  is  alive  as  with  an  army.  Pipes  play, 
shells  rattle,  and  drums  roll,  and  the  fantastic 
forms  with  grotesque  motions  pass  and  repass  each 
other. 

Up  the  Columbia  comes  a  fleet  of  canoes  like  a 
cloud  passing  over  the  silvery  ripples.  The  river  is 
all  alive  with  human  forms,  and  airy  paddles  and 
the  prows  of  tilting  boats. 

The  plateau  swarms.  It  is  covered  with  wav- 
ing blankets  and  dancing  plumes.  All  is  gayety 
and  mirth. 

There  is  another  roll  of  drums,  and  then  silence. 


THE  POTLATCn.  185 

The  circling  blankets  and  plutnes  become  motion- 
less. The  chief  of  the  Cascades  is  coming,  and 
with  him  is  Benjamin  and  his  young  bride,  and 
Gretchen. 

The  royal  party  mount  the  ]>latform,  and  in 
honor  of  the  event  the  toreh-dance  begins.  A 
single  torch  flashes  upon  the  air  ;  another  is 
lighted  from  it,  another  and  another.  A  hundred 
are  lighted — a  thousand.  They  begin  to  dance 
and  to  whirl  ;  the  j)lateau  is  a  dazzling  scene 
of  circling  fire.  Gretchen  recalled  the  old  fetes 
amid  the  vineyards  of  the  Ilhine  in  her  child- 
hood. 

Hither  and  thither  the  circles  move — round  and 
round.  There  is  poetry  in  this  fire-motion ;  and 
the  great  army  of  fire-dancers  l)ecome  excited  under 
it,  and  prepared  for  the  frenzy  of  the  Spirit-dance 
that  is  to  follow. 

The  torches  go  out.  The  moon  turns  the 
smoke  into  wannish  clouds  of  white  and  yellow, 
which  slowly  rise,  break,  and  disappear. 

There  is  another  roll  of  drums.  Wild  cries  are 
heard  in  the  forests.  The  "biters"  are  beginning 
their  hunt. 

Who  are  the  biters?  They  are  Indians  in 
hides  of  bears  and  wolves,  who  run  on  their  hands 


186  THE  LOO  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMULV. 

and  feet,  uttering  terrible  cries,  and  are  followed 
by  women,  who,  to  make  the  scene  more  feaiful, 
pretend  to  hold  them  back,  and  restrain  them 
from  violence.  The  Spirit -dance  is  held  to  be  a 
sacred  frenzy,  and  before  it  begins  the  biters  are 
charged  to  hunt  the  woods  for  any  who  have 
not  joined  the  army  of  dancers,  and,  if  such  are 
found,  to  bite  them  and  tear  their  flesh  witli  their 
teeth.  They  also  gnard  the  dance  like  sentinels, 
and  lly  at  one  who  attempts  to  leave  it  before  it 
is  done. 

The  frenzied  shrieks  of  these  human  animals, 
and  of  the  women  who  follow  tlicm,  produce  a 
wonderful  nervous  effect  ui)on  the  listening  nmlti- 
tudes.  All  feel  that  they  are  about  to  enter  into 
the  ecstatic  spiritual  condition  of  departed  souls,  and 
are  to  be  joined  by  the  shades  of  the  dead  heroes 
and  warriors  of  tradition  and  story. 

Each  dancer  has  a  masque.  It  may  be  an  owl's 
head  with  mother-of-pearl  eyes,  or  a  wooden  peli- 
can's beak,  or  a  wolf's  head.  It  may  be  a  wooden 
animal's  face,  which  can  l)e  pulled  apart  by  a 
string,  and  reveal  under  it  an  effigy  of  a  human 
face,  the  first  masque  changing  into  great  ears. 
The  museum  at  Ottawa,  Canada,  contains  a  great 
number  of   such   mascpics,  and   some   missionaries 


TIIK  rOTLATCII.  1S7 

in  the  Xortliwest  iniike  curious  collections  of 
them. 

The  whirling  lu  <^ins.  Everywlicre  are  whirlinjjf 
circles — round  luid  round  they  <j;(>.  The  si<;ht  of  it 
ull  would  nuike  a  sj)ectiitor  dizzy.  Cries  arise,  each 
more  and  more  fearful ;  the  whole  multitude  are 
at  last  shrieking  with  dizzy  heads  and  wiMly  heat- 
ing pulses.  The  cries  become  deafening;  an  almost 
superhuman  frenzy  passes  over  all ;  they  seem  to 
1)0  no  longer  mortal — the  armies  of  the  dead  are 
believed  to  be  about  them  ;  they  think  that  they 
are  reveling  in  the  joys  of  the  heroes'  ])aradise. 
One  ])y  one  they  drop  down,  until  the  whole  assem- 
bly is  exhausted. 

At  midnight  the  great  fires  are  kindled,  and 
throw  their  lights  and  sha<low8  over  the  frenzied 
sleepers.  Such  was  the  Ta7nanous-diXi\cej  and  so 
ended  the  first  night  of  the  feast. 

On  the  second  night  the  old  chief  gave  away 
his  private  possessions,  and  on  the  third  the  wed- 
ding ceremony  was  performed. 

The  wild  and  inhuman  Death-dance,  which  the 
tribe  demanded,  was  expected  to  end  the  festival  at 
the  going  down  of  the  sliadowy  moon.  Could  it 
be  prevented  after  the  traditions  of  unknown  cent- 
uries, and  at  a  time  when  the  historical  pride  of 


188  THE  LOO  SCnOOL-IlOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

the  warriors  was  awakened  to  celebrate  the  barbar- 
ous deeds  of  their  ancestors  ? 

The  wedding  v/as  simple.  It  consisted  chiefly  in 
gifts  to  the  bride,  Multoona.  The  girl  was  fantas- 
tically dressed,  with  ornaments  of  shells  and  feath- 
ers, and  she  followed  the  young  prince  demure- 
ly. After  the  ceremony  of  the  bridal  gifts  came 
the  Fire-fly  dance,  in  which  light-torches  gleamed 
out  in  vanishing  spirals  here  and  there,  and  over 
all  the  plain.  Then  followed  the  Tamanoua  or 
Spirit  dance,  in  which  a  peculiar  kind  of  frenzy 
is  excited,  as  has  been  described.  The  excitement 
was  somewhat  less  than  usual  this  night,  on  ac- 
count of  the  great  orgies  which  were  expected  to 
follow. 

The  third  and  great  night  of  the  Potlatch  came. 
It  was  the  night  of  the  full  October  moon.  The 
sun  had  no  sooner  gone  down  in  the  crimson 
cloud-seas  among  the  mountains,  than  the  moon, 
like  another  sun,  broad  and  glorious,  lifted  its  arch 
in  the  distant  blue  of  the  serene  horizon. 

The  Indians  gathered  on  the  glimmering  plain 
in  the  early  shadows  of  evening,  besmeared  witn 
yellow  ochre  and  war-paint.  Every  head  was 
plumed.  There  was  a  savagery  in  their  looks  that 
had  not  been  seen  before. 


THE  POTLATCn.  189 

The  wild  dancers  began  their  motions.  The 
Spirit  or  Tainanmi8  dance  awakened  a  frenzy,  and 
all  were  now  impatient  for  the  dance  of  the  Evil 
Spirits  to  begin. 

The  moon  hung  low  over  the  plateau  and  the 
river.  The  fires  were  kindled,  and  the  smoke  pres- 
ently gave  a  clouded  gold  color  to  the  air. 

The  biters  were  out,  running  hither  and  thither 
after  their  manner,  and  tilling  the  air  with  hideous 
cries. 

All  was  expectation,  when  the  old  chief  of 
the  Cascades  stepped  upon  the  platform,  and 
said  : 

"  Listen,  my  children — listen,  O  sons  of  the  war- 
riors of  old.  Twice  four  times  sixty  seasons,  ac- 
cording to  the  notch-sticks,  have  the  wings  of  wild 
geese  cleaved  the  sky,  and  all  these  years  I  have 
lived  in  peace.  My  last  moon  has  arisen — I  have 
seen  the  smile  of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  I  know  that 
the  last  moon  hangs  over  my  head. 

"  "Warriors,  listen !  You  have  always  obeyed 
me.  Obey  me  once  more.  Dance  not  the  dance 
of  the  Evil  Spirits  to-night.  Let  me  die  in  peace. 
Let  not  blood  stain  my  last  days.  I  want  you  to 
remember  the  days  of  Umatilla  as  the  days  of 
corn  and  maize  and  the  pipes  of  peace.     I  have 


190  TlIK  LOO  SCIIOOL-IIOUSK  ON  TIIK  COLUMBIA. 

given  you  nil  I  liiivu — my  days  are  done.  Vou 
will  reMpect  me." 

There  were  mutterings  everywliere,  suppressed 
criea  of  nige,  and  sharp  words  of  eliagrin  and  dis- 
ap})ointment.  Tlio  old  chief  saw  the  general  dis- 
Batisf action,  and  felt  it  like  a  crushing  weight  upon 
his  soul. 

"  I  am  going  to  light  the  pipe  of  peace,"  said 
lie,  "  and  smoke  it  now  before  you.  Ah  many 
of  you  as  love  Umatilla,  light  the  pipes  of 
j)eace." 

Not  a  light  glimmered  in  the  smoky  air.  There 
were  words  of  hate  and  suppressed  cries  every- 
where. A  circle  was  forming,  it  widened,  and  it 
seemed  as  though  the  dreaded  dance  was  about 
to  begin  in  spite  of  the  conunand  of  the  old 
chief. 

Suddenly  a  form  in  white  stood  beside  Uma- 
tilla. It  was  Gretchen.  A  white  arm  was  raised, 
and  the  martial  strain  of  the  "  Wild  Hunt  of  Lut- 
zow"  marched  out  like  invisible  borsemen,  and 
caused  every  Indian  to  listen.  Then  there  were  a 
few  sharp,  discordant  strains,  and  then  the  Trau- 
merei  lifted  its  spirit-wings  of  music  on  the  air. 


THE  POTLATCII. 


101 


(ixanmttr'. 

By    IloBBIlT   Scnt-MANN,    HIMPMFIED   BV    F.    BRANDRIg. 

rubliBlud  l)y  jHrmiBHion. 


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l'J4  THE  LOG  SCnOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Tlie  iriurmurs  ceased.  The  i)l!iin  grew  still. 
"  Konuince"  followed,  and  then  the  haunting  strain 
of  the  Traumerei  rose  again.  It  ceased.  Lights 
began  to  glimmer  here  and  there.  Peace-pipes 
were  being  lighted. 

"  You  have  saved  your  people,"  said  I^niatilla. 
"  Play  it  again." 

Airain  and  ajrain  the  dream-music  drifted  out  on 
the  air.  The  plain  was  now  tilled  with  peace- 
pipes.  When  the  last  blended  tones  died  away, 
the  whole  tribe  were  seated  on  the  long  plateau, 
and  every  old  warrior  was  smoking  a  pipe  of  peace. 

Gretchen  saw  that  her  spirit,  through  the  violin, 
had  calmed  the  sea.  She  was  sure  now  that  she  had 
rightly  read  her  mission  in  life.  Amid  the  scene 
of  glinmiering  peace-pipes,  a  heavenly  presence 
seemed  near  her.  She  had  Itroken  the  traditions  of 
centuries  by  the  sympathetic  thrill  of  four  simple 
strings.  She  felt  that  Yon  Weber  was  there  in 
spirit,  and  Schumann.  She  felt  that  her  father's 
soul  was  near  her  ;  but,  more  than  all,  she  felt  that 
she  was  doing  the  work  of  the  Great  Connnission. 
She  bowed  her  head  on  the  instrument,  thought 
of  poor,  terrorized  Mrs.  Woods  in  her  lonely  home, 
and  wept. 

A  seen  and  unseen  w^orld  had  come  to  her — real 


THE  POTLATCn.  I95 

life.     She  saw  licr  power  ;  tlio  gates  of  tliat  inyBte- 

rious  kii»gck>ni,  in  wliieh  the  reborn  soul  is  a  new 

creation,    had    been    openeil    to    her.       Jler    spirit 

seemed  to  rise  tis  on  new- created  wings,  and  tlie 

world  to  sink  beneatli  her.     Slie  had  spiritual  sight, 

ears,    and  senses — a   new    consciousness  of    Divine 

happiness.     Her  purj)ose  became  strong  to  live  for 

the  soul  alone,  and  she  sung,  over  and  over  again, 

amid  the  silence  of  the  peace-pipes  and  tlie  rising  of 

those  puffs  of  6nK>ke  in  the  silver  illumination  of 

the  high  moon — 

"  In  the  deserts  let  me  labor, 

Ou  the  mouataius  let  me  tell." 


18 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE   TRAUMERFI    AGAIN. 

An  lionr  passed  in  tliis  mysterious  and  strange 
tranquillity — the  noon  hour  of  night.  The  warriors 
seemed  contented  and  satisfied.  Many  of  them 
were  old ;  some  of  them  remembered  the  coming  of 
the  first  ships  to  the  Columbia,  and  a  few  of  them 
the  long  visit  of  Vancouver.  They  knew  the  wis- 
dom of  Umatilla,  and  seemed  proud  that  his  will 
had  been  so  readily  obeyed. 

But  not  so  with  the  biters.  They  were  young, 
and  they  had  plotted  on  this  night  to  begin  hostili- 
ties against  the  settlers.  Their  plan  had  been  to 
burn  the  loff  school-house  and  the  house  of  the 
Woodses,  and  to  make  a  captive  of  Mrs.  Woods, 
whose  hostile  spirit  they  wished  to  break  and  pun- 
ish. Soon  after  the  quiet  scene  at  midnight  they 
began  to  be  restless.  Their  cries  arose  here  and 
there  about  the  margin  of  the  plateau  and  along  the 
river. 


TUE  TUAUiMEllEI  AGAIN.  lyy 

The  old  cliief  knew  tlieii*  feelings,  and  saw  the 
stormy  rip[)les  here  and  there.  lie  arose  slowly, 
and  called  : 

"  My  people,  draw  near." 

The  trihe  gathered  about  the  platform.  The 
young  braves  knew  what  the  old  chief  was  al)out  to 
say,  and  their  cries  of  discontent  grew  loud  and 
multiplied. 

"The  log  school-house  I  ■'  shrieked  one,  in  a 
voice  of  raire. 

''Pn-jnl !  "  cried  another.  "  Pll-j^U  !  "  echoed 
many  voices.  A  tumult  folloMX'd,  and  (iretchen 
started  up  from  her  reverie,  and  h<  i-d  among  the 
restless  murmurs  the  name  of  ]\rrs.  Woods. 

She  felt  a  nervous  terror  for  a  moment,  but  her 
spiritual  sense  and  faith,  which  had  come  to  her 
like  a  new-b(»rn  life,  returned  to  her. 

She  arose  on  the  platform  and  took  her  violin, 
and  looked  down  upon  the  sea  of  dusky  faces  in  the 
smoky  moonlight.  She  drew  her  1)0W.  The  music 
cpiivered.  There  M-as  a  lull  in  the  excited  voices. 
She  played  low,  and  there  followed  a  silence. 

The  old  chief  came  heavily  up  on  the  platform 
with  a  troubled  face  and  stood  l)eside  her. 

"  Play  the  beautiful  air.''  She  played  the 
Traurrierei  again. 


198  THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

The  cliief  arose,  as  the  last  strain  died  away, 
and  said  : 

"  My  people,  listen." 

The  plateau  was  silent.  The  Columbia  could 
he  heard  flowing.  The  trees  seemed  listening. 
Benjamin  came  upcni  the  i)latform,  reeling,  and 
seemed  about  to  speak  to  his  father,  but  the  old 
chief  did  not  heed. 

"  My  people,  listen,"  repeated  the  chief. 

A  wild  shriek  of  pain  rent  the  air,  and  Benja- 
min dropped  at  the  feet  of  his  father.  It  was  his 
voice  that  uttered  the  cry  of  agony  and  despair  as 
he  fell. 

AVhat  had  happened  ? 

The  boy  lay  on  the  platform  as  one  dead.  The 
old  chief  bent  over  him  and  laid  his  hand  on  his 
face.  lie  started  back  as  he  did  so,  for  the  face 
was  cold.  But  the  boy's  eyes  pitifully  followed 
every  movement  of  his  father.  Gretchen  sunk 
down  beside  the  body,  and  drew  her  hand  across  his 
forehead  and  asked  for  water.    Benjamin  knew  her. 

Soon  his  voice  came  again.  lie  looked  wist- 
fully toward  Gretchen  and  said  : 

"  I  shall  never  go  to  find  the  Black  Eagle's  nest 
again.  It  is  the  plague.  My  poor  father! — my 
poor  father ! " 


TIIK  TIIAUMEUEI  AGAIN.  109 

"Send  for  tlio  inedicine-maii/'  said  tlie  cliief. 
"  Quick  ! " 

nc)ppin<]^-P)Our,  the  old  nu'dicimMimn,  cjimo,  a 
dreadful  iigure  in  eagle's  plumes  and  bear-skins. 
To  affect  the  imagination  of  the  peoj)le  when  he 
was  going  to  visit  the  sick,  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  walk  upon  his  two  hands  and  one  foot,  with  the 
other  foot  moving  up  and  down  in  the  air.  lie  be- 
lieved that  sickness  was  caused  bv  obsession,  or  the 
influence  of  some  evil  spirit,  and  he  endeavored,  by 
liowlings,  jumpings,  and  rattling  of  snake-skins,  to 
drive  this  imaginary  spirit  away.  Ihit  he  did  not 
begin  his  incantations  here;  he  looked  upon  lienja- 
min  with  staring  eyes,  and  cried  out : 

"  It  is  the  plague  !  " 

The  old  chief  of  the  Cascades  lifted  his  helpless 
face  to  the  sky. 

"  The  stiirs  are  gone  out !  "  ho  said.  "  I  care  for 
nothing  more." 

The  boy  at  times  was  convulsed,  then  lay  for  a 
time  unconscious  after  the  convulsions,  then  con- 
sciousness would  return.  In  one  of  these  moments 
of  consciousness  he  asked  of  Gretchen  : 

"  Where  is  Boston  tilicum  ?  " 

"  He  is  not  here — he  does  not  know  that  vou 
are  sick." 


200  Till-:  i.OG  SCIIOOL-IIOL'SE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  Itiiii  for  liiiii ;  tell  him  I  can't  go  to  the  Mis- 
souri with  liiin.  1  can't  tind  the  Black  Eagle's  nest. 
Run  ! " 

Ills  mind  was  dreaming  and  wandering. 

Gretclien  sent  a  runner  to  bring  the  school- 
master to  the  dreadful  scene. 

A  convulsion  passed  over  the  boy,  but  he  re- 
vived again. 

"Have  faith  in  Heaven,"  said  Gretclien.  "There 
is  One  above  that  will  save  von." 

"  One  above  that  will  save  me !    Are  you  sure?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Gretclien. 

She  added : 

"  Mother  is  oorry  for  what  she  said  to  you." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  the  boy,  pathetically. 

lie  was  lost  again  in  spasms  of  pain.  When  he 
revived,  Marlowe  ]\binn  had  come.  The  boy  lifted  his 
eyes  to  his  beloved  teacher  vacantly ;  then  the  light  of 
intelligence  came  back  to  them,  and  he  knew  him. 

"  I  can't  go,"  lie  said.  "'  We  shall  never  go  to 
the  lakes  of  the  honks  together.  Boston  tilicnm,  T 
am  going  to  die  ;  I  am  going  away  like  my  brothers 
— where  ? " 

It  was  near  the  gray  light  of  the  morning,  and 
a  flock  of  wild  geese  were  heard  trumpeting  in  the 
air.     The  boy  heard  the  sound,  and  started. 


THE  TRAUMERKI   AUAIN.  201 

"  Boston  tilicum  !  " 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  JiOiston  tilicum,  listen.  Do  yon  hear?  What 
tauglit  tlie  honks  wliere  to  go  i  " 

''  The  Great  Father  of  alh" 

"  He  leads  tlieni  i  " 

"  Yes." 

"He  willleadme?" 

"  Yes." 

"And  teach  me  when  I  am  gone  away.  I  can 
trust  him.  l>ut  my  fatiier — my  father  !  Boston 
tilicum,  lie  loves  me,  and  he  is  old." 

Flock  after  tiv  ':  af  wild  geese  llew  overhead  in 
the  dim  light.  The  hoy  lay  and  listened,  lie. 
seemed  to  have  learned  a  lesson  of  faitli  from  the 
insthicts  of  these  mi<;ratorv  hirds.  He  once  turned 
to  the  master  and  said,  almost  in  Gretchen's  words  : 

"  There  is  One  above  that  will  save  me." 

As  the  morning  drew  nearer,  the  air  seemed 
filled  with  a  long  jirocession  of  Canadian  geese 
going  toward  the  sea.  The  air  rang  with  tlieir 
calls.  The  poor  hoy  seemed  to  think  that  somehow 
they  were  calling  to  him. 

There  was  silence  at  last  in  the  air,  and  he 
turned  toward  Gretchen  his  strangely  quiet  face, 
and  said,  "  Play." 


202  THE  LOG  SO  1 100  r^I  10  USE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Gretchoii  raised  her  bow.  As  she  did  so  a 
sharp  spasm  came  over  him.  lie  lifted  his  hand 
and  tried  to  feel  of  one  of  the  feathers  from  tlie 
lilaek  Eagle's  nest,  lie  was  evidently  wandering 
to  the  Falls  of  the  j\[issouri.  His  hand  fell.  He 
passed  into  a  stertorous  sleep,  and  lay  there,  watehed 
l)y  the  old  chief  and  the  silent  tribe. 

Just  as  the  light  of  early  morn  was  llaniing 
through  the  tall,  cool,  dewy  trees,  the  breathing 
became  labored,  and  ceased. 

There  he  lay  in  the  rising  sun,  silent  and  dead, 
with  the  hel])less  chief  standing  statne-like  above 
him,  and  the  tribe,  motionless  as  a  picture,  circled 
around  him,  and  with  Gretcheii  at  his  feet. 

"  Make  way ! "  said  the  old  chief,  in  a  deep 
voice. 

He  stepped  down  from  the  platform,  and 
walked  in  a  kingly  manner,  yet  with  tottering 
steps,  toward  the  forest.  Gretchen  followed  him. 
He  heard  her  step,  but  did  not  look  around. 

"  Wlilte  girl,  go  back,"  he  said  ;  "  I  want  to  be 
alone." 

lie  entered  the  forest  slowly  and  disappeared. 

Just  at  night  he  was  seen  coming  out  of  the 
forest  again.  He  spoke  to  but  a  single  warrior, 
and  only  said  : 


THE  TltAUMEliEI   AGAIN.  203 

"  Bury  him  as  the  wliitu  iiirii  hiiry  ;  open  the 
blanket  of  the  earth ;  and  coniniund  tlie  trihe  to  he 
there  —  to-niorrow  at  sundown.  Take  them  all 
away — I  will  watch.     AVHiere  is  the  white  girl  T' 

"  She  has  gone  home,"  said  the  Indian. 

"  Then  [  will  watch  alone.  Take  them  all 
away — I  want  to  he  alone.  It  is  the  last  night  of 
the  chief  of  the  Umatillas,  It  is  the  last  watch  of 
the  stars.  My  hlood  is  oold,  my  heart  heats  slow — 
it  will  not  he  long  !  " 

The  chief  sat  all  night  hy  the  hody.  In  the 
morning  he  went  to  his  lodge,  and  the  trihe  made 
the  preparations  for  the  funeral,  and  opened  a  grave 
in  the  earth. 


(UIAPTER  XVI. 


A    8ILKNT   TlilUE. 


Tt  was  Riinsct  on  tlic  bluffs  nrul  valleys  of  the 
Coluiiihiii.  Tliroii<jjli  the  tail,  dark  ])iiies  and  firs 
the  red  west  glowed  like  the  lights  in  an  oriel  or 
mnllioned  window.  The  air  was  voiceless.  The 
Columbia  rolled  silentlv  in  the  shadows  with  a 
shinnnering  of  erinison  o!i  its  deep  middle  tides. 
The  Ion.  brown  l)oats  of  the  Falmon-fishers  sat 
motionless  on  the  tide.  Am(»nf>:  the  craft  of  the 
fishermen  glided  a  long,  nirv  canoe,  with  swift  pad- 
dles. Tt  contained  an  old  T'^'matilla  Indian,  his 
daughter,  and  a  young  warrior.  The  party  were 
going  to  the  young  chief's  funeral. 

As  the  canoe  glided  on  amid  the  still  fishermen 
of  other  tribes,  the  Indian  maiden  began  to  sing. 
Tt  was  a  strange  song,  of  immortality,  and  of 
spiritual  horizcms  beyond  the  visible  life.  The 
TJmatillas    have    poetic    minds.      To    them   white 


Multnomah  InUs. 


A  SILKNT  TUIHK.  205 

Taronia  witlj  licr  pi^liiii;;  strnuns  iiiciins  ii  iiiotlit'r'H 
l)rt'asr,  and  the  Hrn-aiiis  thi'iUM'Ivcs,  like  tlic  hills 
of  tlie  (listiint  Sli( (.shone,  were  "  falling  hjikii- 
dorH." 

Slu;  win-;  in  Ciiiiutok,  and  tlic  hurdcn  cd"  Iut 
song  was  that  horizons  will  lilt  fort-vcr  in  the 
unknown  future.  The  Cliifiook  word  tnnnthi 
means  "  to-uK/rntw  "  ;  and  to-morrow,  to  the  Indian 
nnnd,  was  eternal  life. 

Tlio  young  warrior  joitied  in  tlie  refrain,  and 
the  old  Indian  listened.  The  ihonglit  of  the  song 
was  Homething  as  follows  : 

"Aim!  it  is  cviT  fD-moiTdW,  to-innrrow — 
Tiiiiiiilu,  tiiiiiala.  siuj;  as  we  row  ; 
Lift  thine  cyo  to  the  niouiil ;  to  tlic  wave  pivo  thy  sorrow: 
The  river  is  l)ri^'ht.  and  the  lividets  flow; 
Tamal«.  tamala, 
Kver  ami  ever; 
The  morrows  will  come  and  the  morrows  will  go^ 

Tamala !  tatnala! 

"  Happy  hnat,  it.  is  ever  to-morrow,  to-morrow — 
Tamala.  whisper  the  waves  as  they  How  ; 
The  orafjs  of  the  sunset  the  smiles  of  Iij,'ht  borrow, 
And  soft  from  th(>  ocean  the  Chinook  winds  i)luw: 
Tamala,  tamala, 
Ever  and  ever ; 
The  morrows  will  como  nnd  the  morrows  will  go — 

Tamala  I  tamala  I 

"Aha!  the  iii<rht  eomcs,  hut  the  light  is  to-morrow — 
Tamala,  tamala,  sing  as  we  go  ; 


20G  THE  LOa  SCIlOOlj-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Tlio  waves  ripplo  past,  like  the  heiirt-bouts  of  sorrow, 
And  the  oar  beats  the  wave  to  our  song  as  wo  row: 
Tamahi,  tainuhi, 
Ever  and  uvcr ; 
Tho  moiTows  will  come  and  the  morrows  will  go — 

Tamala  I  tamala ! 

"  For  ever  and  ever  horizons  are  lifting — 
Tamala,  tamala,  sing  as  we  row  ; 
And  life  toward  the  stars  of  the  ocean  is  drifting, 
Through  death  will  the  morrow  all  endlessly  glow — 
Tamala,  tamala, 
p]ver  and  ever ; 
Tho  morrows  will  como  ami  the  morrows  will  go, 

Tamala  !  tamala ! " 

The  paddle  dipped  in  the  Mave  at  the  word 
tamala,  and  lifted  1k>  i  to  mark  the  measure  of  the 
song,  and  strew  in  the  warm,  soft  air  the  watery 
jewels  colored  hy  the  far  tires  of  the  Sound.  So 
the  boat  swept  on,  like  a  spirit  hark,  and  the  beau- 
tiful word  of  immortality  was  echoed  from  the 
darkening  blufTs  and  the  primitive  pine  cathedrals. 

The  place  where  the  grave  had  been  made  was 
on  the  borders  of  the  Oregon  desert,  a  wild,  open 
region,  walled  with  tremendous  forests,  and  spread- 
ing out  in  the  red  sunset  like  a  sea.  It  had  a 
scanty  vegetation,  but  a  slight  rain  would  some- 
times change  it  into  a  billowy  plain  of  flowers. 

The  tribe  had  begim  tt>  assemble  about  the 
grave  early  in  the  long  afternoon.     They  came  one 


A  SILENT  TRIBE.  207 

by  one,  solitary  ami  ^^llL'nt,  \vm])pc(l  in  l)ljiJikets  and 
ornaniciited  with  gray  j)liimL'vS.  The  warriors  cainu 
in  the  same  solitary  way  and  iiiet  in  silence,  and 
stood  in  a  long  row  like  an  army  of  shadows. 
S(|naws  came,  leading  children  hy  the  hand,  and 
seated  themselyes  on  the  soft  earth  in  the  same 
stoical  silence  that  had  marked  the  bearing  of  the 
braves. 

A  circle  of  lofty  firs,  some  three  hundred  feet 
high,  threw  a  slanting  shadow  oyer  the  open 
graye,  the  toj)s  gleaming  with  sunset  fire. 

Afar,  ISIount  Hood,  the  dead  yolcano,  lifted  its 
roof  of  glaciers  twelve  thousand  feet  high.  Silver 
ice  and  black  carbon  it  was  now,  although  in  the 
long  aujes  <jone  it  had  had  a  history  written  in  fiame 
and  smoke  and  thunder.  Tradition  says  that  it 
sometimes,  even  now,  rumbles  and  flashes  forth  in 
the  darkness  of  night,  then  sinks  into  rest  again, 
under  its  lonely  ice  palaces  so  splendid  in  the  sun- 
set, so  weird  under  the  moon. 

Just  as  the  red  disk  of  the  sun  sunk  down  be- 
hind this  stupendous  scenery,  a  low,  guttural  sound 
was  uttered  by  Potlatch  Hero,  an  old  Indian 
brave,  and  it  passed  along  the  line  of  the  shadowy 
braves.  No  one  moved,  but  all  eyes  were  turned 
toward  the  lodge  of  the  old  Umatilla  chief. 


208  TUE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

lie  was  coining — slowly,  with  measured  step ; 
naked,  except  the  decent  covering  of  a  blanket  and 
a  heroic  ornament  of  eagle-plumes,  and  all  alone. 

The  whole  tribe  had  now  gathered,  and  a  thou- 
sand dusky  forms  awaited  him  in  the  sunset. 

Tiiere  was  another  guttural  s(jund.  Another  re- 
markable life-picture  came  into  view.  It  was  the 
school  in  a  silent  2)rocession,  following  the  tall  masks, 
out  of  the  forest  trail  on  to  the  glimmering  plain,  the 
advent  of  that  new  civilization  before  which  the  for- 
est lords,  once  the  poetic  bands  of  the  old  irmatillas, 
were  to  disappear.  Over  all  a  solitary  eagle  l)eat 
the  luminous  air,  and  flocks  of  wild  geese  made 
their  way,  like  Y-letters,  toward  the  Puget  Sea. 

The  school  soon  joined  the  dusky  company,  and 
the  pupils  stood  with  uncovered  heads  around  their 
Yankee  pedagogue.  But  the  old  chief  came  slowly. 
After  each  few  steps  he  would  stop,  fold  his  arms, 
and  seem  lost  in  contemplation.  These  pauses  were 
longer  as  he  drew  near  the  silent  company. 

Except  the  honks  of  the  pilots  of  the  flocks  of 
wild  geese,  there  was  a  dead  silence  everywhere. 
Only  eyes  moved,  and  then  furtively,  toward  the 
advancing  chief. 

He  readied  the  grave  at  last  by  these  slow 
movements,  and  stepped  upon  the  earth  that   had 


s 


■? 


A  SILENT  TRIBE.  209 

been  thrown  out  of  it,  and  folded  liis  iinns  in  view 
of  all.  A  golden  btar,  like  a  lanij)  in  the  windows 
of  lieaven,  hung  over  Mount  Hood  in  the  fading 
splenilors  of  the  twilight,  and  the  great  chief  bent 
his  eye  upon  it. 

Su(Uleidy  the  air  was  rent  by  a  wail,  and  a  rat- 
tle of  shells  and  drums.  The  body  of  Ijenjaniin 
was  being  l)rought  out  of  the  lodge.  It  was  borne 
on  a  bier  made  of  poles,  and  covered  with  boughs 
of  pine  and  lir  and  red  mountain  pldox.  It  was 
wrapped  in  a  blanket,  and  strewn  with  odonHis 
ferns.  Four  young  braves  bore  it,  besmeared  with 
war-i)aint.  They  were  followed  by  nuisieians,  who 
beat  their  drums,  and  rattled  shell  instruments  at 
irregular  times,  as  they  advanced.  They  came  to 
the  grave,  lifted  the  body  on  its  blanket  from  the 
bier  of  evergreens  and  dowers,  and  slowly  lowered 
it.  The  old  chief  stood  stoical  and  silent,  his  eye 
fixed  on  the  star  in  the  darkening  shadows. 

The  face  of  Benjamin  was  noble  and  ])eautiful 
in  its  death-sleep.  Over  it  wt^re  two  black  eagle's 
plumes.  The  deep  black  hair  lay  loosely  about  the 
high,  bronze  forehead ;  there  was  an  expression  of 
benevolence  in  the  compressed  lips,  and  the  help- 
less hands  seemed  like  a  picture  as  they  lay  crossed 
on  each  other. 


210  TIIK  LOG  SCllOOL-lIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

As  soon  as  the  body  was  laid  in  the  earth,  the 
old  chief  bent  his  face  on  the  ])eople.  The  mys- 
terious dimness  of  deatli  was  in  his  features.  His 
eyes  gleamed,  and  his  bronze  lips  were  turning 
])ale. 

"  My  nation,  listen  ;  'tis  my  last  voice.  I  am 
a  Umatilla.  In  my  youth  the  birds  in  the  free 
lakes  of  the  air  were  not  more  free.  I  spoke,  and 
you  obeyed.  I  have  but  one  more  connnand  to 
give.     Will  you  obey  me  ? 

"  You  bow,  and  I  am  glad. 

"  Listen  ! 

"  My  fathers  were  men  of  war.  They  rolled 
the  battle-drums.  I  taught  my  warriors  to  play 
the  pij^es  of  peace,  and  sixty  years  have  they  played 
them  under  the  great  moons  of  the  maize-fields. 
"We  were  happy.     I  was  happy. 

"  I  had  seven  sons.  The  white  man's  plague 
came ;  the  shadow  fell  on  six  of  them,  and  they 
went  away  with  the  storm-birds.  They  entered  the 
new  canoe,  and  sailed  beyond  us  on  the  sea  of  life. 
They  came  back  no  more  at  the  sunrisings  and 
sun  settings,  at  the  leaf -gatherings  of  the  spring, 
or  the  leaf-fallings  of  the  autumn.  They  are  be- 
yond. 

"  One  son  was  left  me — Benjamin.     He  was  no 


A  SILENT  TlillJE.  211 

common  youth  ;  the  liigh  spirits  were  with  him, 
ail  1  he  cuine  to  be  like  tiiem,  uikI  lie  has  gone  to 
them  now.  I  loved  him.  lie  was  my  eyes;  he 
^vas  my  ears ;  he  was  my  heart.  When  I  saw  his 
eyes  in  death,  my  eyes  were  dead  ;  when  he  eonld 
hear  me  call  his  name  no  l(»nger,  my  ears  htst  their 
licaring ;  when  his  young  lieart  ceased  to  beat,  my 
own  heart  was  dead.  All  that  I  awi  lies  in  that 
grave,  beside  my  dead  boy. 

"  My  nation,  you  have  always  obeyed  me.  I 
have  but  one  more  conmiand  to  make.  AVill  yon 
obey  me  ? 

"  You  bow  again.  My  life-blood  is  growing 
cold-     I  am  about  to  go  down  into  that  grave. 

"  One  step !  The  clouds  lly  and  darken,  and 
vou  will  see  them  return  aijain,  but  not  I. 

"  Two  steps  !  Farewell,  sun  and  light  of  day. 
I  shall  see  thee  again,  but  not  as  now. 

"  Three  steps !  Downward  to  the  grave  I  de- 
scend to  meet  thee,  my  own  dear  boy.  Adieu,  my 
people.  Adieu,  hearts  of  faith.  Farewell,  ye 
birds  of  the  air,  ye  mighty  forests,  ye  sun  of 
night,  and  ye  marches  of  stars.     I  am  dying. 

"  Two  steps  more  I  will   take.     There  he  lies 

before  me  in  the  unfolded  earth,  the  life   of  mv 

life,  the  heart  of  my  heart. 
14 


212  THE  LOG  SCllOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

"  You  have  promised  to  obey  me.  T  rcjieat  it — 
you  liiivc  promised  to  obey  me.  You  have  always 
(lone  so.  You  nuist  do  so  now.  My  hands  are 
cold,  my  feet  are  cold,  and  my  heart  Ijeats  very 
slow.  Three  steps  more,  and  I  shall  lay  myself  on 
the  body  of  my  boy.  Hear,  then,  my  last  cou)- 
mand  ;  you  have  promised  to  obey  it  like  brave  men. 

"  When  I  have  taken  my  last  three  steps  of  life, 
and  laid  down  beside  the  uncovered  bed  of  earth 
beside  my  boy,  fill  up  the  grave  forever  ;  my 
l)reath  will  be  gone  ;  Umatilla  will  be  no  more. 
You  must  obey. 

"  One  step — look  !  There  is  fire  on  the  mount- 
ain under  the  curtains  of  the  night.  Look,  the 
peak  flashes ;  it  is  on  fire. — O  Spirit  of  All,  I 
come!  One  step  more!  Farewell,  earth.  "War- 
riors, fill  the  grave !  The  black  eagle's  plumes  will 
now  rest  forever." 

There  \\  is  deej)  silence,  broken  only  by  the  sobs 
of  the  little  school.  A  warrior  moved  and  passed 
round  the  grave,  and  uttered  the  word  "  Dead  !  " 
The  lu'aves  followed  him,  and  the  whole  tribe  like 
shadows.  "  Dead  !  "  "  Dead  !  "  passed  from  mouth 
to  mouth.  Then  a  warrior  threw  a  handful  of  earth 
into  the  grave  of  the  father  and  son.  The  braves 
followed  his  example,  then  all  the  tribe. 


A  SILENT  TRIBE.  213 

As  they  were  so  doing,  like  plmntoms  in  the  dim 
light,  Mount  Saint  Helens*  blazed  again — one  vol- 
canic flash,  then  another ;  then  all  was  darkness, 
and  the  moon  arose  in  a  broad  sea  of  light  like  a 
spectral  sun. 

The  grave  was  filled  at  last.  Then  they  brought 
the  Cayuse  pony  of  Benjamin  toward  the  grave, 
and  a  young  brave  raised  the  hatchet  to  kill  it,  that 
it  might  bear  the  dead  boy  into  the  unknown  land. 

There  was  a  cry !  It  came  from  Gretchen. 
The  girl  rushed  forward  and  stood  before  the 
hatchet.  The  pony  seemed  to  know  her,  and  he 
put  his  head  over  her  shoulder.  * 

"  Spare  him !  "  she  said.  "  Benjamin  gave  him 
to  me — the  soul  of  Benjamin  would  wish  it  so." 

"  Let  the  girl  have  her  way,"  said  the  old  war- 
riors. 

The  moon  now  moved  free  in  the  dark-blue 
sky,  and  sky,  forest,  and  plain  were  a  silver  sea. 
The  Indians  ])egan  to  move  away  like  shadows,  one 
by  one,  silent  and  slow.  Gretchen  was  the  last  to 
go.  She  followed  the  school,  leading  the  pony,  her 
soul  filled  with  that  consciousness  of  a  new  life 
that  had  so  wonderfully  come  to  her.     Her  way  in 

*  See  Notes. 


214  TIIK  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  OX  THE  COLUMllLV. 

life  MOW  Hoemed  cleur :   «lic  imi«t  teach   tho   Uma- 
tilhts. 

81io  loft  tlio  pony  ill  a  granny  clearing,  on  tlio 
trail  that  led  to  lier  home,  and  hurried  toward  tho 
cahiii  to  des<!ril)c  all  the  events  of  the  day  tu  her 
fotiter-niother. 


CIIAI'TER   XVII. 

A    DKSOI.ATK    HOMK    AM)    A    DKSOLATE    I'KOIM.E. 

As  Gretchen  was  Imrryin*^  lioiiic  on  tlio  cvonin*; 
after  these  ex('itin<;  sfones,  slie  met  Mrs.  ^V'<kk!s  in 
the  trail,  and  she  saw  at  a  glance  that  her  foster- 
mother  was  iji  great  distress. 

"O  Gretchen,"  she  said,  "I  am  so  glad  that 
you  have  come — you  are  all  that  is  left  to  me  now  I 
I  am  all  alone  in  the  world  !  Have  you  heard  it, 
Gretchen  ? " 

''  What,  mother  ? " 

"  Husband  is  drowned  !  " 

Mrs.  "Woods  seized  the  arm  of  the  girl,  and 
the  two  helpless  women  hurried  toward  their  rude 
home,  each  to  relate  to  the  other  a  scene  of  dis- 
tress, and  each  to  wonder  what  the  wide  future  had 
in  store  for  them. 

They  held  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  talked  in 
the  open  door  of  the  cabin.      Then  they  went  in 


21G  TlIK  LU<i  SCllUOL-IIOUSK  ON  Till':  COLUMBIA. 

und  iito  a  Hiiii{)lu  iiioul  of  milk  miil  horries,  and 
lay  down  and  slept  tlic  Hleep  of  Horrovv. 

At  tho  early  Hglit  tliry  awoko.  Almost  tlio 
first  w'onls  tiiat  (initclioii  Hj)oko  wure :  "  Let  un 
face  life  aii<l  be  fearlesH.  I  have  faitli.  i^Iy  father 
had  faith,  and  my  mother  lived  by  faith.  It  was 
faith  that  led  them  tteroHS  the  8ea.  Their  faith 
seemed  to  bo  unfulfilled,  but  it  will  be  fulfilled  in 
me.  T  feel  it.  Mother,  let  trouble  pass.  AV'e  be- 
lonjjj  to  the  family  of  (lod." 

"  You  are  a  comfort  to  me,  Gretelien.  T  can 
not  see  my  way — it  is  covered." 

"  IJut  you  can  trust  your  (Juide,  mother,  and 
the  end  of  trust  is  j)eace." 

"  What  are  we  to  do,  Gretchcn  ?  " 

"  I  will  ^o  to  Walla  Walla  and  seek  the  advice 
of  Mrs.  Spaulding." 

"(iretclien,  don't  you  think  that  the  schoid- 
master  is  a  good  man  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  that  he  is." 

"  I  am.  Let  us  go  to  him  and  follow  his  advice. 
Wo  will  go  together." 

They  agreed  to  make  the  visit  on  the  following 
day  in  the  morning,  before  school. 

Gretchen  told  her  foster-mother  the  story  of 
the  Indian  pony. 


A  DKSOLATK  IIOMK  AND  A  DKSOLATK  riKHMJ:.  lilT 

"  AVheru  is  he  now  ? "  txAvA  'SWa.  "WiunU. 

"I  left  him  iii  the  cleuriiig.  I  will  go  tiiul  \uu\ 
him." 

"  I  will  <^<>  with  you,"  siiid  ^frs.  "WimkU. 

The  two  wont  out  togi'tluT.  They  came  to 
the  (•leiirin<; — a  place  of  waving  grass,  surroumkMl 
with  gigantic  trees,  in  whose  to])s  were  great  nestn 
of  birds.     Tlic  pony  was  not  tliere. 

"  He  1ms  gone  to  the  next  clearing,"  said 
CTrctchcu. 

They  passed  through  a  strip  of  wood  to  another 
clearing.      Hut  the  yumy  was  not  there. 

As  they  were  returning,  a  little  black  animal 
crossed  their  path. 

Mrs.  Woods  said,  "  Hold  !  "  then  called  out  in 
a  kindly  voice,  "  Roll  over."  The  little  animal 
rolled  head  over  lieels  in  a  very  comical  way,  then 
ran  quickly  into  the  thick  bushes.  It  was  the  last 
time  that  Mrs.  Woods  ever  saw  little  HoU  Over, 
and  Gretchen  never  saw  the  pony  again.  The 
latter  probably  found  a  herd  of  horses  and  wan- 
dered away  with  them.  It  was  a  time  of  sucli  con- 
fusion and  distress  that  the  matter  did  not  awaken 
the  interest  of  the  Indians  at  that  time. 

That  evening  they  talked  of  plans  for  the 
future. 


218  THE  LOG  SCIIOOL-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUiMBIA. 

"  Let  118  seek  work  in  one  of  tlie  missionary 
stations,"  said  Gretclien,  "  or  let  us  tind  a  home 
among  tlie  Indians  tliemselves.  I  want  to  become 
a  teacher  among  tliem,  and  I  know  that  they 
would  treat  you  Avell." 

Mrs.  AVoods's  views  on  these  matters  were 
changing,  Imt  something  of  her  old  distrust  and 
l)rejndice  remained  despite  her  good  resolutions. 

"  Foxes  and  geese  were  never  made  to  hold 
conference  meetings  together.  You  can't  make  one 
man  out  of  anotlier  if  you  try." 

"  But,  mother,  your  English  ancestors  once  wan- 
dered about  in  sheep-skins,  and  worshiped  the  oaks ; 
the  whole  English  race,  and  the  German  race, 
were  made  what  they  are  by  teachers  —  teachers 
who  gave  themselves  to  a  cause  almost  two  thou- 
sand years  ago." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  that  is  so.  But,  Gretchen,  T 
want  your  heart ;  I  never  thouglit  that  you  would 
give  it  to  the  Injuns.  I  ouglit  not  to  be  so 
ruled  b}'  my  affections ;  but,  if  I  do  scold  you, 
there  is  something  in  you  that  draws  my  heart 
toward  you  all  the  time.  I  believe  in  helping 
others ;  something  good  in  the  future  always 
comes  of  it.  If  men  would  be  good  to  each 
other,  Heaven  would  be  good  to  the  w^orld.     It  is 


A  DESOLATE  HOME  AND  A  DESOLATE  PEOPLE.  219 

tlie  tilings  done  liere  in  this  world  that  are  out  of 
order,  and  I  never  was  on  very  good  terms  with 
myself  even,  not  to  say  much  of  the  world.  I'ut 
you  have  helped  me,  Gretehen,  and  hymns  have 
hel}3ed  me.  I  want  you  to  be  charitable  toward 
my  feelins',  Gretehen,  wlien  I  grow  old,  and  I  pray 
that  you  will  always  be  true  to  me." 

"  I  shall  always  be  true  to  you,  whatever  I  may 
be  called  to  do.  I  shall  not  leave  you  until  you  give 
your  consent.  One  day  you  vill  wish  me  to  do  as  I 
liave  planned — I  feel  it  within  me;  something  is 
leading  me,  and  our  hearts  will  soon  be  one  in  my 
plan  of  life." 

"  It  may  be  so,  Gretehen.  I  have  had  a  hard 
time,  goin'  out  to  service  when  I  was  r.  girl.  My 
oidy  ha2:)py  days  were  during  the  old  Methody 
preaching  of  Jason  Lee.  I  thought  I  owned  the 
lieavens  then.  It  was  then  I  married,  and  I  said  to 
husband  :  '  Here  we  must  always  be  slaves,  and  life 
will  be  master  of  us ;  let  us  go  "West,  and  own  a  free 
farm,  and  be  masters  of  life.'  There  is  a  great  deal 
in  being  master  of  life.  "Well,  we  have  had  a  hard 
time,  but  husband  has  been  good  to  me,  and  you  have 
made  me  happy,  if  I  have  scolded.  Gretehen,  some 
people  kiss  each  other  by  scoldin'  ;  I  do — I  scold  to 
make  the  world  better.     I  suppose  everything  is  for 


220  THE  LOG  SCUOOL-UOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

the  best,  after  all.  There  is  no  experience  in  life 
that  dues  not  teach  us  something,  and  there  is  a  bet- 
ter world  beyond  that  awaits  all  who  desire  a  better 
life.  Our  desires  are  better  than  ourselves — mine 
arc.  Good  desires  are  prayers,  and  I  think  that 
tlrey  will  all  be  answered  some  day." 

She  sat  in  silence,  thinking  of  her  lonely  situa- 
tion, of  her  ignorance  and  imperfection,  of  her 
often  baffled  struggles  to  do  well  in  this  world  and 
to  overcome  her  poor,  weak  self,  and  she  burst  into 
tears. 

"  Play,"  she  said.  "  Music  is  a  kind  of  prayer." 
And  Gretchen  touched  the  musical  glasses. 


CHAPTER   XYIir. 

THK    LIBTED   CLOUD THE    INDIANS    COME   TO   THE 

SCUOOLMASTEK. 

The  next  day  witisessed  a  strange  scene  at 
tlie  loiic  school-house  on  tlie  Columbia.  It  was  a 
red  October  morning.  Mrs.  "Woods  accompanied 
Gretchen  to  the  school,  as  she  wished  to  have  a  talk 
with  Mr.  Mann. 

As  the  two  came  in  sight  of  the  house,  Mrs. 
"Woods  caught  Gretchen  by  the  arm  and  said  : 

"Wliat's  themf" 

"Wliere?" 

"  Sittin'  in  the  school-yard." 

"They  are  Indians." 

"  Injuns  ?     "What  are  they  there  for  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  mother." 

"  Come  for  advice,  like  me,  may  be." 

"  Perhaps  they  are  come  to  school.  The  old 
chief  told  them  that  I  woidd  teach  them." 

"You?" 


222  THE  LOG  SCnOOL-IlOUSE  ON  TUE  COLUMBIA. 

"  They  have  no  father  now." 

"No  father?" 

"  No  chief." 

Mrs.  Woods  had  been  so  overwhelmed  with  her 
own  grief  that  slie  had  given  little  thought  to  the 
deatli  of  Benjamin  and  the  chief  of  the  Cascades. 
The  nnliappy  condition  of  the  little  tribe  now  came 
to  her  as  in  a  picture  ;  and,  as  she  saw  before 
her  some  fifty  Indians  seated  on  the  ground,  her 
good  heart  came  back  to  her,  and  she  said,  touched 
by  a  sense  of  her  own  widowhood,  "  Gretchen,  I 
pity  'em." 

Mrs.  "Woods  was  right.  These  Indians  had 
come  to  seek  the  advice  of  Mr.  Mann  in  regard  to 
their  tribal  affairs.  Gretchen  also  was  right.  They 
had  come  to  ask  Mr.  INfann  to  teach  their  nation. 

It  was  an  unexpected  assembly  that  Marlowe 
Mann  faced  as  he  canie  down  the  clearing,  but  it 
revealed  to  him,  at  a  glance,  his  future  work  in  life. 

The  first  of  the  distressed  people  to  meet  him 
was  Mrs.  AVoods. 

"  O  Mr.  Mann,  I  am  all  alone  in  the  world,  and 
what  am  I  goin'  to  do  ?  There's  nothin'  but  hard 
days'  work  left  to  me  now,  and — hymns.  Even 
Father  Lee  has  gone,  and  I  have  no  one  to  advise 
me.     You  will  be  a  friend  to  me,  won't  you  ? " 


TUE  LIFTED  CLOUD.  223 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Mann.  "  I  need  you,  and  the 
way  is  clear." 

"  What  do  you  mean  i  " 

*'  1  have  a  letter  from  Boston." 

''  What  is  it,  Marlowe  Mann  ?  " 

"  The  Indian  Educational  Society  have  promised 
me  a  thousand  dollars  for  my  work  another  year. 
I  must  have  a  house.  I  would  want  you  to  take 
charge  of  it.     But — your  tongue?" 

"  O  Master  Mann,  I'll  give  up  my  tongue  !  I'll 
just  work,  and  be  still.  If  an  Injun  v.ill  give  up 
his  revenge,  an'  it's  his  natur',  ought  not  I  to  give 
up  my  tongue  ?  When  I  can't  help  scoldin'  I'll 
just  sing  hymns." 

Mr.  Mann  gazed  into  the  faces  of  the  Indians. 
The  warm  sunlight  fell  ujjon  them.  There  was  a 
long  silence,  broken  only  by  the  scream  of  the 
eagles  in  the  sky  and  the  passing  of  flocks  of 
wild  geese.  Then  one  of  the  Indians  rose  and 
said  : 

"  Umatilla  has  gone  to  his  fathers. 

"  Benjamin  has  gone  to  his  fathers.  W^e  shall 
never  see  Young  Eagle's  plume  again  ! 

"  Bostom  tilicum,  be  our  chief.  AVe  have  come 
to  school." 

Mr.   Mann   turned   to   Gretchen.      Her   young 


224  THE  LOG  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

face  was  lovely  that  morning  witli  sympathy,  lie 
Kiid  in  a  low  voice  : 

"  You  see  our  work  in  life.  Do  you  under- 
stand ?    Will  you  accept  it?  " 

She  understood  his  heart. 

"  I  will  do  whatever  you  say." 

In  1859  a  great  Indian  Keservation  was  estab- 
lished in  what  is  known  in  Oregon  as  the  Inland 
Empire  of  the  Northwest.  It  contained  about  two 
hundred  and  seventy  thousand  acres,  agricultural 
land  and  timber-land.  The  beautiful  Umatilla 
River  flows  through  it.  The  agency  now  is  near 
Pendleton,  Oregon.  Thither  the  Umatillas  were 
removed. 

Marlowe  Mann  went  there,  and  Gretchcn  as 
his  young  wife,  and  in  their  home  Mrs.  Woods 
for  many  years  could  have  been  heard  singing 
hymns. 

Their  home  stood  for  the  Indian  race,  and  the 
"hoolmaster  and  his  wife  devoted  themselves  to 
the  cause  of  Indian  education.  Through  the  silent 
influence  of  Mr.  Mann's  correspondence  w^ith  the 
East,  Indian  civilization  was  promoted,  and  the 
way  prepared  for  the  peaceful  settlement  of  the 
great  Northwest. 


TUE  LIFTED  CLOUD.  225 

Gretclien  taught  the  Indians  as  long  as  slio 
lived.  Often  at  evening,  when  the  day's  work  had 
been  hard,  she  would  take  her  violin,  and  a  dream 
of  music  would  float  upon  the  air.  h^he  ])layed  hut 
one  tune  at  last  as  she  grew  serenely  old.  That 
tune  recalled  her  early  German  home,  the  Rhine,  her 
good  father  and  mother,  and  the  scenes  of  the  great 
Indian  Potlatch  on  the  Colam])ia.  It  was  the 
Traumerel. 

Iler  poetic  imagination,  which  had  been  sup- 
pressed by  her  foster-mother  in  her  girlhood,  came 
back  to  her  in  her  new  home,  and  it  was  her  de- 
light to  exi)res8  in  verse  the  inspirations  of  her 
life  amid  these  new  scenes,  and  to  publish  these 
poems  in  the  papers  of  the  East  that  most  sympa- 
thized with  the  cause  of  Indian  education. 

The  memory  of  Benjamin  and  the  old  chief  of 
the  Cascades  never  left  her.  It  Mas  a  never-to-be- 
forgotten  lesson  of  the  nobility  of  all  men  whose 
souls  have  the  birthright  of  heaven.  Often,  when 
the  wild  geese  were  flying  overhead  in  the  even- 
ing, she  would  recall  Benjanun,  and  say,  "  He  who 
guides  led  me  here  from  the  Bhine,  and  schooled 
me  for  my  work  in  the  log  school-house  on  the 
Colmnbia." 


22G  THE  LOG  SCIIOOIj-nOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Such  irt  not  an  ovenlmwn  picturo  of  the  early 
pioneers  of  the  Cohinibia  uiul  tlie  great  North- 
west. 

Jason  Lee  was  censured  for  k'aviii'j^  his  mission 
for  the  sake  of  Oregon — for  turning  his  face  from 
the  stars  to  the  sun.  "VVliitman,  when  he  appeared 
ragged  at  Washington,  was  blamed  for  having  left 
his  post.  Tlie  early  pioneers  of  the  great  North- 
west civilization  lie  in  neglected  graves.  We  are 
now  beginning  to  see  the  hand  of  Providence,  and 
to  realize  how  great  was  the  work  that  these  people 
did  for  their  own  country  and  for  the  world. 

And  Marlowe  Mann — whose  name  stands  for 
the  Christian  schoolmaster — no  one  knows  where  he 
sleeps  now  ;  perhaps  no  one,  surely  but  a  few.  He 
saw  his  college-mates  rise  to  honor  and  fame.  They 
offered  him  positions,  but  he  knew  his  place  in  the 
world. 

When  his  hair  was  turning  gray,  there  came  to 
him  an  offer  of  an  opportunity  for  wealth,  from  his 
remaining  relatives.  At  the  same  time  the  agency 
offered  him  the  use  of  a  farm.  He  accepted  the 
latter  for  his  work's  sake,  and  returned  to  his  old 
friends  a  loving  letter  and  an  old  poem,  and  with 
the  latter  we  will  leave  this  picture  of  old  times  on 
the  Oregon : 


THE  LIFTED  CLOUD.  227 

"  Happy  the  man  whoso  wish  imd  care 
A  few  paternal  acres  hoiiiul ; 
Content  to  l)realhe  his  native  air 
On  his  own  ground. 

"  Whose  iieiils  witli  milk,  whose  fields  with  bread, 
Whose  floeks  supply  him  with  attire  ; 
Whose  trees  in  summer  yield  him  shade, 
In  winter,  fire. 

"  Sound  sleep  by  night,  study  and  ease, 
Together  mixed  sweet  recreation; 
And  innocence,  which  most  doth  please, 
Willi  meditation. 

"  Blessed  who  can  unconcernedly  find 

Hours,  days,  and  years  glide  soft  away, 
In  health  of  body,  peace  of  mind  ; 
Quiet  by  day. 

"Thus  let  me  live  unseen,  unknown; 
Thus  unlamentcd  let  me  die; 
Steal  from  the  world,  and  not  a  stone 
Tell  where  I  lie." 


15 


HISTORICAL  NOTES. 


I. 

VANCOUVER. 

The  remarkablu  })r(>«i^res8  of  the  PacIHc  jmii; 
cities  of  Seattle  and  Tacoiua  make  AVa>Iii!i<rt()n 
an  especially  bright,  new  star  on  the  national  lla<;. 
Surrounded  as  these  cities  are  with  sonic  of  the 
grandest  and  most  poetic  scenery  in  the  United 
States,  witli  gigantic  forests  and  rich  farm-lands, 
with  mountains  of  ores,  with  coal-mines,  iron- 
mines,  copper-mines,  and  mines  of  the  more  pre- 
cious treasures ;  washed  as  they  are  by  the  water 
of  noble  harbors,  and  smiled  n])on  by  skies  of 
almost  continuous  April  weather — there  must  be  a 
great  future  before  the  cities  of  Puget  Sound. 

The  State  of  ^Vashington  is  one  of  the  youngest 
in  the  T'nion,  and  yet  she  is  not  too  young  to  cele- 
brate soon  the  one-liundredth  anniversary  of  several 
interesting  events. 


2.':0  TIIK  ]A)(i  SCIKKH.-llorsK  ()\  Tin:  CuLUMniA. 

It  WHS  oil  tlio  ir)tli  (if  DccemlKT,  17!»o,  timt  ('ii|>. 
t^iin  (ft'orgo  Vancouver  ruoeivi'd  liis  cuimnission  as 
coTtiiDandi'r  of  liis  ^^ajl•sty's  Hloup  (.f  war  the  Dis- 
coverv.  Tlircc  of  liis  ulliccrs  were  IVter  I*u«rct. 
Joseph  llaker,  and  ,Ium'|»1i  AV!ii<|l»v,  whose  iiaiiies 
now  live  ill  riii;et  S(»un(l— Mount  llaker,  and 
Whidhy   Island. 

Tho  groat  island  of  Iiritish  C'olunihia,  and  its 
ener<;oti(^  l)ort  city,  received  the  name  of  Van- 
couver himself,  and  Vancouver  naii'ed  most  of  the 
places  on  Pu^et  Sound  in  honor  <»f  his  persoiud 
friends.  He  must  have  had  a  heart  formed  for 
friendshi]),  thus  to  have  imnwtrtalized  those  whom 
he  esteemed  and  loved.  It  is  tho  discovery  and 
the  naminjjj  of  mountains,  islands,  and  ])orts  of  the 
Pup:et  Sound  that  suggest  poetic  and  patriotic  cele- 
brations. 

The  old  journals  of  Vancouver  lie  before  us. 
In  these  we  read  : 

"From  this  direction,  round  by  the  north  and 
northwest,  the  high,  distant  land  formed,  like  de- 
tached islands,  among  which  the  lofty  mountains 
discovered  in  tho  afternoon  by  the  third  lieutenant, 
and  in  C(»nipliment  to  him  called  by  me  Mount 
Baker,  rose  to  a  very  C()ns])icnous  object." 

It  was  on  Monday,  April  30,  1702,  th.y^  Mount 


VANCOUVEIl,  281 

r.uki'P  wius  thus  di.scoveretl  uinl  iiaiiuul.  In  ^Iiiy, 
lTi>li,  \'iiiK't)UVL'r  btatcs  that  lio  ciiiiir  to  ii  ^' wry 
wif(!"  and  '*  capatioiis"  liarlxM',  and  that  "to  tliis 
port  I  {^avc  tliu  iiauiu  of  Port  Towiisheiul,  in  honor 
of  tliu  nohle  marquis  of  tliat  nanii'." 

A^ain,  on  Tliurstlay,  iMay  iil>,  1T'.*2,  Vaneouvcr 
disc'ovcri'd  another  exoelk'nt  port,  and  says  : 

"This  liarhor,  after  the  «;('ntk'nian  who  dist-ov- 
ered  it,  ohtainecl  tlic  nanii'  of  Port  ( )r('liard." 

In  Mav,  1T1''J,  lie  makes  tlie  following;  very  iin- 
portant  liistorical  note: 

"Thus  by  our  joint  efforts  we  laid  coinpk'teiy 
explored  every  turninjj:  of  this  extensive  inlet  ; 
and,  to  eonnneniorate  Mr.  I'uj^et's  exertions,  the 
fourtli  extreniitv  of  it  I  named  Pnwt  Sound." 

A  very  interesting,^  otHeer  seems  t(»  have  l)een 
this  lieutenant,  Peter  Pu^et,  whose  soundings  gave 
the  name  to  the  American  ]\rediterranean.  Once, 
after  the  firing  of  muskets  to  overawe  hostile  Indi- 
ans, Avho  merely  pouted  out  their  lips,  and  uttered, 
'•  Poo  hoo!  j)oo  hoo!''  he  ordered  the  discharge  of  a 
heavy  gun,  and  was  annised  to  note  tlie  silence  that 
followed.  It  was  in  April  and  May,  ITOii,  that 
Paget  explored  the  violet  waters  of  the  great  inland 
sea,  a  work  which  he  seems  to  have  d(»iie  with  the  en- 
thusiasm of  a  romancer  us  well  as  of  a  naval  otlicer. 


232  THE  LOG  SCnOOL-nOUSE  ox  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Muiiiit  Hood  was  iiiinied  for  L(jrd  Hood,  and 
Mount  Saint  Helens  mus  named  in  1TU2,  in  the 
niontli  of  October,  "  in  honor  of  his  Britannic 
Majesty's  ambassador  at  tlie  court  of  Madrid." 
But  one  of  tlie  most  interesting  of  all  of  A  an- 
couver's  note<!  is  the  following  : 

"  The  weather  was  serene  a^d  pleasant,  and  the 
country  continued  to  exhibit  the  same  luxuriant 
ap])earance.  At  its  northern  extremity  Mount 
Baker  bore  compass ;  the  round,  snowy  mountain, 
now  forming  its  southern  extremity,  after  my 
friend  Tlcar-Admiral  Ranier,  I  distinguished  l)y  the 
name  of  Mount  Eanier,  May,  1792."  This  mount- 
ain is  now  Mount  Tacoma. 

The  spring  of  1892  ought  to  be  historically  very 
interesting  to  the  State  of  "\Yasliington,  and  it  is 
likely  to  be  so. 


II. 
THE  OREGON  TRAIL. 

"  There  is  the  East.  There  lies  the  road  to 
India." 

Such  was  Senator  Thonuis  II.  Benton's  view 
of  the  coast  and  harl)ors  of  Oregon.  He  saw 
the   advantage    of   securing   to  the   United   States 


THE  OREGON  TRAIL.  233 

the  Columbia  Kivcr  and  its  great  bayin,  and  tbe 
Puget  Sea  ;  and  lie  made  himself  the  cham])ion  of 
Oregon  and  Washington. 

In  Thomas  Jefferson's  administration  far-seeing 
people  began  to  talk  of  a  road  across  the  continent, 
and  a  port  on  the  Pacific.  The  St.  Louis  fur- 
traders  had  been  making  a  waj  to  the  Rockies  for 
years,  and  in  1810  Jojin  Jacob  Astor  sent  a  ship 
around  Ca])e  Horn,  to  establish  a  post  for  the  fur- 
trade  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  and  also  sent  an  ex- 
peditioii  of  some  sixty  persons  from  St.  Louis, 
overland,  hy  the  way  of  the  Missouri  and  Yellow- 
stone, to  the  Columbia  liiver.  The  pioneer  ship 
was  called  the  Ton(piin.  She  arrived  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Columbia  before  the  overland  ex})cdition. 
These  traders  came  together  at  last,  and  founded 
Astoria,  on  the  Columbia. 

Ships  now  began  to  sail  for  Astoria,  and  the 
trading-post  flourished  in  the  beautiful  climate  and 
amid  the  majestic  scenery.  But  the  English 
claimed  the  country.  In  June,  1812,  war  broke 
out  with  England,  and  Astoria  became  threatened 
with  capture  by  the  English.  It  was  decided  hy 
Astor's  agent  to  abandon  the  post;  but  Astoria  had 
taught  the  I'^nited  States  the  value  of  Oregon. 

The  Oregon  trail  from  St.  Louis,  by  the  way  of 


2?A  TIIP]  LOa  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ox  THE  COLUMRIA. 

tlio  groat  rivers,  the  Missouri,  the  Yellowstone, 
and  the  Columbia,  followed  the  fall  of  Astoria,  and 
began  the  highway  of  emigration  to  the  Paeiiic 
coast  and  to  Asia.  Over  it  the  trapper  and  the 
missionary  began  to  go.  The  ]\Iethodist  mission- 
aries, under  the  leadership  of  lievs.  Jason  and  Dan- 
iel Lee,  were  among  the  lirst  in  the  field,  and  laid 
the  foundations  of  the  early  cities  of  Oregon.  One 
of  their  stations  was  at  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 
In  1885  the  great  missionary,  Marcus  Whitnum,  of 
the  Congregationalist  IJoard,  established  the  mis- 
sion at  AValla  Walla,  Yet  up  to  the  year  lcS41, 
just  tifty  years  ago,  only  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  Americans,  in  all,  had  })ermanently  settled  in 
Oregon  and  AV^ashington. 

Senator  Benton  desired  the  survey  of  a  route  to 
Oregon,  to  aid  emigration  to  the  Columbia  basin. 
lie  engaged  for  this  service  a  young,  handsome, 
gallant,  and  chivalrous  oflieer.  Lieutenant  Jolm  C. 
Fremont,  who,  with  Nicollet,  a  I'rench  naturalist, 
ha<l  been  surveying  the  upper  ^lississippi,  and 
o[)ening  emigration  to  Minnesota. 

Fremont  espoused  not  only  the  cause  of  Oregon, 
but  also  Senator  l>enton's  young  daughter  Jessie, 
who  later  rendered  great  personal  services  to  her 
husband's  expedition  in  the  Northwest. 


THE  OREGOX  TRAIL.  035 

Kit  Carson  was  the  guide  of  tliis  famous  expe- 
dition. The  Soutli  T*ass  was  explored,  and  tlie  flag 
phmted  on  what  is  now  known  as  Fremont's  Peak, 
and  the  c<juntrj  was  foiuid  to  he  not  the  (ireat 
American  Desert  of  the  maps,  hut  a  hind  of  won- 
derful heauty  and  fertility.  In  1S43  Fremont 
made  a  second  expedition  ;  this  time  from  the 
South  Pass  to  the  C^)luml)ia  country.  After  he 
was  well  on  his  way,  the  AVar  Department  re(!alled 
him ;  hut  Mrs.  Fremont  su})j)ressed  the  order,  in 
the  interest  of  the  exj)edition,  until  it  was  too  late 
to  reach  him. 

Fremont  went  l)y  the  way  of  Salt  Lake,  struck 
the  Orcijon  trail,  and  tinallv  came  to  the  mission 
that  Dr.  Whitman  had  founded  among  the  Nez- 
Perces  (pierced  noses)  at  Walla  Walla.  This  mis- 
sion then  consisted  of  a  single  adohe  house. 

The  British  claimants  of  the  territory,  finding 
that  American  innnigration  was  increasing,  began 
to  bring  settlers  from  the  Ped  Piver  of  the  North. 
A  struggle  now  began  to  determine  which  country 
should  possess  this  vast  and  most  important  ter- 
ritory. When  Dr.  AVhitman  learned  of  the  new 
efforts  of  the  English  to  settle  the  country,  and 
the  danger  of  losing  Oregon  by  treaties  ])en(ling 
at  Washington,  he   started   for  St.   Louis,  by  the 


23G  THE  LOG  SCi;  )OL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

way  of  Santca  Fe.  This  ride,  often  c.'illed  "  AVliit- 
man's  Ride  for  Oregon,"  is  one  of  the  ix)etieal 
events  of  American  history.  He  went  to  Wash- 
ington, was  treated  cavalierly  by  the  State  De])art- 
meiit,  but  secured  a  delay  of  the  treaties,  which 
proved  the  means  of  saving  Oregon  and  AVashing- 
ton  to  the  United  States. 

So  liis  missionary  efforts  gave  to  our  country 
an  empire  tliat  seems  destined  to  become  ultimate 
America,  and  a  power  in  the  Asian  world. 


III. 
GOVERNOR  STEVENS. 

In  the  long  line  of  brave  American  soldiers, 
General  Isaac  Inujalls  Stevens  deserves  a  noble 
i-ank  in  the  march  of  history.  lie  M'as  born  at 
Andover,  Mass.,  and  was  educated  at  "West  Point, 
where  he  was  graduated  from  the  Military  Academy 
in  1839  \vith  the  highest  honors,  lie  was  on  the 
military  staff  of  General  Scott  in  Mexico,  and  held 
other  honorable  positions  in  the  Government  serv- 
ice in  his  early  life. 

But  the  great  period  of  his  life  was  his  survey 


GOVERNOR  STEVENS.  237 

of  the  Xortlicrn  route  to  the  Pjicific,  Pincc  l<'ir<::L'l_v 
followed  by  the  Northern  Paciiic  liuilroad,  and  his 
deveh)pinent  of  AVashingtoii  Territory  as  a  pioneer 
Governor.  lie  saw  tlie  road  to  C.^hina  by  tlie  way  of 
the  Puij^et  Sea,  and  realized  that  "Washington  stood 
for  the  East  of  tlie  Eastern  Continent  and  the  West- 
ern, lie  seems  to  have  felt  that  here  the  ilag 
would  achieve  her  greatest  destiny,  and  he  entered 
upon  his  work  like  a  knight  who  faced  the  future 
and  not  the  jiast.  Tlis  survey  of  the  IS^ortherTi 
Pacific  route  led  the  march  of  steam  to  the  Puget 
Sea,  and  the  great  steamers  have  carried  it  forward 
to  Japan,  China,  and  India. 

His  first  message  to  the  Legislature  at  Olympia 
(1854r)  was  a  map  of  the  future  and  a  prophecy.  It 
was  a  call  for  roads,  schools,  a  university,  and  inuni- 
gration.  The  seal  of  Washington  was  made  to  bear 
the  Indian  word  yl/Z'J — ''l)y  and  l)y  " — or  "in  the 
future."     It  also  was  a  prophecy. 

He  created  the  counties  of  Sawanish,  AYhatcom, 
Clallam,  Chehalis,  Cowlitz,  Wahkiakum,  Skamania, 
and  Walla  Walla.  Olympia  was  fix'cd  upon  as  the 
seat  of  government,  and  measures  were  taken  by 
the  Government  for  the  regulation  of  the  Indian 
tribes. 

Stevens  w-as  the  military  leader  of  the  Indian 


238  TlIK  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  OX  THE  COLUMBIA. 

war.  lie  reduced  tlic  tribes  to  submission,  and 
secured  a  permanent  peace,  lie  was  elected  to 
Con<^ress  as  a  Territorial  deleijjate  in  IS.5T,  and 
sought  at  AVasliington  as  earnestly  as  on  the  Puget 
Sea  the  interests  of  the  risinir  State. 

He  was  a  man  of  great  intellect,  of  a  forceful 
and  magnetic  presence — a  man  horn  to  lead  in 
great  emergencies.  He  carried  Xew  England  ideas 
and  traditions  to  the  Pacific,  and  established  then: 
there  for  all  time  to  come,  creatinir  there  a  <rreater 
New  England  which  should  gather  to  its  harbors 
the  commerce  of  the  world. 

Governor  Stevens  was  a  conservative  in  politics, 
but  when  the  news  of  the  fall  of  Sumter  thrilled 
the  country,  he  said  to  the  people  of  Olympia,  "  I 
conceive  it  my  duty  to  stop  disunion."  lie  went  to 
AYashington  and  entered  the  Union  service. 

He  fell  like  a  hero  at  Chantillv,  and  under  the 
flag  which  he  had  taken  from  his  color-bearer,  who 
had  received  a  nxn'tal  wound.  His  was  a  splendid 
career  that  the  nation  should  honor.  AYe  recently 
saw  his  sword  and  historic  pictures  at  the  home  of 
his  wudow  and  son  at  Dorchester,  ISIass.,  and  were 
impressed  with  these  relics  of  a  spirit  that  had 
done  so  much  for  the  progress  of  the  country  and 
mankind. 


SEATTLE  THE  CHIEF.  Op.O 

The  State  of  Wasliiiij^'toii  Is  his  monumeiit,  atid 
progressive  thoui^ht  liis  eulojjry.  His  ij:;r(>at  niiiul 
and  energy  hrouglit  order  out  of  cliaos,  and  set  tlic 
Hag  in  wliose  fohls  he  died  forever  under  tlie  jjk'ani- 
ing  dome  of  the  Coh)ssns  of  American  mountains 
and  over  tlie  celestial  blue  of  the  I'aciiic  harbors  of 
the  Puget  Sea. 


IV. 

SEATTLE  THE  CHIEF. 

Seatfle  was  a  Dwamish  chief,  and  a  true  friend 
of  the  white  race,  whom  he  seemed  to  follow  on 
account  of  their  superior  intelligence.  lie  gave  the 
name  to  an  earlv  settlement,  which  is  now  a  <;rcat 
city,  and  which  seems  destined  to  become  one  of 
the  important  port  cities  of  the  world  ;  for  when 
in  1852,  some  forty  years  ago,  the  ])ioneers  of  Alke 
Point  left  the  town  which  they  had  laid  out  and 
called  Xew  York,  and  removed  to  the  other  side 
of  the  hay,  they  named  the  })lace  Seattle,  from  the 
friendly  chief,  instead  of  New  York.  Alk6  means 
hy  and  hy^  and  Seattle  is  likely  to  become  the 
!New  York  of  the  Pacific,  and  one  of  tlie  great 
ports  for  Asiatic  trade.     With  the  innnense   agri- 


240  THE  LOO  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBLV. 

cultural  and  mineral  resources  with  which  it  is  sur- 
rounded, with  its  inexhaustihle  stores  of  timber,  its 
sublime  scenery  and  delightful  climate,  with  its  di- 
rect and  natural  water-road  to  Ja^jan  and  China,  and 
its  opportunity  of  manufacturing  for  the  Asiatic 
market  the  kind  of  goods  that  England  has  to  carry 
to  the  same  markets  over  an  ad\'enturous  course 
of  three  times  the  distance,  with  the  great  demand 
for  grain  among  the  rice-eating  countries  of  the 
East — the  mind  can  not  map  the  i)()ssibilities  of 
this  port  city  for  the  next  hundred  years  or  more. 
The  prophecy  of  its  enterprising  citizens,  that  it 
will  one  day  be  one  of  the  great  cities  in  the  world, 
is  not  unlikely  to  be  realized  ;  and  it  is  interesting 
to  ask  what  was  the  history  of  the  chief  who  gave 
the  name  to  this  new  Troy  of  the  Puget  Sea. 

He  was  at  this  time  somewliat  advanced  in  life, 
a  portly  man,  of  benevolent  face,  recalling  the  pict- 
ure of  Senator  Benton,  of  Missouri,  whom  he  was 
said  to  resemble.  He  was  the  chief  of  the  Dwa- 
mishes,  a  small  tribe  inhabiting  the  territory  around 
wliat  is  now  Elliott  Bay.  He  became  a  friend  of 
Dr.  Maynard,  one  of  the  pioneers  of  the  new  town, 
and  of  General  Stevens,  the  great  Territorial  Gov- 
ernor. He  was  well  known  to  Foster,  Denny,  Bell, 
and  Borden,  who  took  claims  where  the  city  now 


SEATTLE  THE  CI II KF.  241 

8taud.s.  Ilia  lust  yndrn  wcru  pasbULl  at  Port  Madi- 
son, where  he  died  in  1S(W>,  at  a  great  age. 

Governor  Stevens  contirnieil  his  saelieiiiship,  and 
Seattle  became  the  protector  and  the  good  genius 
of  the  town.  A  curious  legend,  wliicli  seems  to  he 
well  founded,  is  related  of  a  tax  which  Seattle 
levied  upon  the  new  town,  for  the  sake  of  the 
trouble  that  the  name  would  give  him  in  the  spirit- 
ual world.  When  a  Dwamish  Indian  lost  a  near 
relative  of  the  same  name  l»v  di-ath,  he  changed  his 
own  name,  because  the  name  might  attract  the  ghost 
of  the  deceased,  and  so  cause  him  t()  be  haunted. 
The  tribe  believed  that  departed  s[)irits  loved  their 
old  habitations,  and  the  associations  of  their  names 
and  deeds,  and  so  they  changed  tlieir  names  atid 
places  on  tlie  death  of  relatives,  that  they  might 
not  be  disturbed  by  ghostly  aj){)aritions. 

"  AV^liy  do  you  ask  for  a  tax  ? "  asked  a  pioneer 
of  Seattle. 

"  The  name  of  the  town  will  call  me  back  after 
I  am  dead,  and  make  me  nidiappy.  I  want  my  i)ay 
for  what  I  shall  suffer  then,  now." 

I  hope  that  the  ra})id  growth  of  the  great  city 
of  the  Xorth  does  not  disquiet  the  gentle  and  be- 
nevolent soul  of  Seattle.  The  city  should  raise  a 
monument  to  him,  that  he  may  see  that  he  is  kindly 


212  THE  IA)(\  SCIlOOL-IIOrSE  ON  THE  COLrMIUA. 

reinenihored  wlii'ii  Ik;  {•(Hiics  buck  t<»  visit  tlio  asKoci- 
iitions  of  Ills  iiaiiie  mid  life.  Or,  hotter  for  liis 
nluule,  tlie  city  slioiild  kindly  care  for  liis  daiij^litcr, 
])(»(ir  (tld  A!i;:;('liiie  Seattk',  wlio  ut  tliu  time  of  this 
writing  (IMMi)  is  a  l»e<,^gar  in  the  streets  of  uplift- 
in';  ('((niinereial  palaees  and  lovely  homes! 

"We  visited  her  in  her  liut  outside  of  tlie  eity  some 
montlis  ago,  to  ask  lier  if  slie  saved  Seattle  in  lsr»r), 
by  giving  information  to  the  ])ioneers  tliat  tlie 
woods  around  it  were  full  of  lurking  Indians,  hent 
on  a  plot  to  destroy  it;  for  there  is  a  legend  tliat 
on  that  shadowy  Decemher  night,  when  Seattle  was 
in  j»eril,  and  the  ('"'ineil  of  Indian  Marriors  met 
and  resolved  to  destroy  the  town  before  morning, 
Jim,  a  frii'iidly  Indian,  was  |)reM.'nt  at  the  confer 
ence  as  a  spy.  He  found  means  to  Marn  the  pio- 
neers of  their  immediate  danger. 

The  ship  of  war  Decatur,  under  Captain  (ian^e- 
voort,  lay  in  the  liarlior.  Jim,  who  had  acted  in 
the  Indian  council,  secretly,  in  the  interest  of  the 
town,  liad  advised  tlie  chiefs  to  defer  the  attack 
until  early  in  the  morning,  when  the  otHcers  of  the 
Decatur  would  be  off  their  guard. 

Night  fell  on  the  Puget  Sea.  The  people  went 
into  the  block-house  to  sleep,  and  the  men  of  tlie 
Decatur  guarded  the  town,  taking  their  stations  on 


Middle  hlocn'  fiO'ise  nt  the  CrwcadcK. 


SKATTLK  TIIK  CillKF.  243 

hhorc.  Ah  till!  Tii<^lit  (Urpciu'd,  a  tliniisjuid  liostili' 
Iiidiutis  crept  up  to  the  phuv  luid  uwiiitod  the  iiiuru- 
liiiif,  wlieri  the  ^uiird  hlumld  ^<t  (»n  hoard  the  sliip 
for  lireakfjist,  and  tlie  pe(»[»U'  should  eoine  out  *>i 
the  hlock-lioune  and  j^o  to  their  houses,  and  '*  8C't 
the  ^un  heliiud  the  door/' 

It  was  on  this  niglit,  aceordin«^'  to  the  legend,  that 
"Old  Aiii:;('line,"asshe  is  now  called,  became  the  ines- 
seni^i^r  that  saved  the  inluihitants  from  destruction. 

The  legend  has  Iteen  doubted  ;  and  when  we 
asked  tlie  short,  tlat-faced  old  woman,  as  she 
answered  our  knock,  if  slu^  was  the;  daughter  of 
the  diief  who  saved  Seattle,  she  simply  said, 
"Chief,"  grimied,  and  made  a  bow.  She  was  ready 
to  accept  the  traditional  honors  of  the  wild  legend 
worthy  of  the  pen  of  a  Cooper. 

On  returning  frotn  our  visit  to  old  Angeline,  wo 
asked  lion.  Henry  Vesler,  the  now  rich  pioneer, 
why  the  ])rijicess  was  not  better  cared  for  by  the 
people  of  the  city.  !!(!  himself  had  been  generous 
to  her.  "  Why,''  he  said,  "  if  you  were  to  giv(^  her 
lifty  dollars,  she  would  give  it  all  away  bef(»re 
night!"  Hcncvolent  <»ld  ATigcliiie!  She  ought 
to  live  in  a  palace  instead  <if  a  hovel  !  Mr.  Yesler 
doubted  the  local  legend,  but  I  still  wished  to  be- 
lieve it  to  he  true. 
16 


244  TIIK  LOG  SCIIOOL-IIOUSK  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

V. 

The  story  of  "  Wliitnian'rt  Hide  for  Oregon'' 
lias  bueii  told  iu  vcrtjo  by  the  writer  of  tlii«  voluiue, 
•ds  follows  : 

WHITMAN'S   RIDE  FOR  OREGON. 

I. 

"  An  empire  to  be  lost  or  won  !  " 

And  who  four  thousand  miles  will  ride 
And  climb  to  heaven  the  Great  JJivide, 
And  find  the  way  to  Washington, 

Through  mountain  canons,  winter  snows, 
O'er  streams  where  free  the  north  wind  blows? 
Who,  who  will  ride  from  Walla- Walla, 
Four  thousand  miles,  for  Oregon  i 

II. 

"  An  empire  to  be  lost  or  won  ? 
In  youth  to  man  I  gave  my  all, 
And  nauficht  is  yonder  mountain  wall ; 
If  but  the  will  of  Heaven  be  done. 
It  is  not  mine  to  live  or  die, 
Or  count  the  mountains  low  or  high. 
Or  count  the  miles  from  AValla- Walla. 
I,  T  will  ride  for  Oregon  !  " 
'Twas  thus  that  Whitman  made  reply. 


WIIITMAX'S   RIDE   FOR   ORHGON.  ^45 

III. 

"  An  empire  to  be  Ju.st  or  won  ? 

I>ring  luu  my  Cajuse  pony,  tlieii, 

And  I  will  t':.'jad  old  waysaoain, 
Beneath  the  gray  skies'  crystal  .s,ni. ' 
'Twas  on  those  altars  of  the  air 

I  raised  the  Hag,  and  saw  helovv 

The  measnreless  Columbia  How; 
The  Bible  oped,  and  bowed  in  pi-ayer, 

And  gave  myself  to  God  anew, 
And  felt  my  spirit  newly  boi-n  ; 

And  to  my  mission  I'll  ]>c  true. 
And  from  the  vale  of  Walla- Walla 

ril  ride  again  for  Oregon. 

IV. 

"  I'm  not  my  own  ;  myself  Vvr  given, 

To  bear  to  savage  hordes  the  Won]  • 
If  on  the  aU.irs  of  the  heaven 

I'm  called  to  die,  it  is  the  Lord. 
The  hevald  may  not  wait  or  choose, 

'Tis  his  the  snnnnons  to  obey  ; 
To  do  .lis  best,  or  gain  or  lose, 

To  seek  the  Guide  and  not  the  way. 
He  mnst  not  nn'ss  the  cross,  and  I 

Have  ceased  to  think  of  life  or  death  ; 


240  THE  LOO  SCHOOL-HOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMBIA. 

My  ark  I've  builded — licavcii  is  nigli, 
And  earth  is  but  a  morning's  l)reatli ! 

Go,  then,  my  Cayuse  pony  bring; 
The  hopes  that  seek  myself  are  gone, 

And  from  tlie  vale  of  AVallaAValla 
I'll  ride  again  for  Oregon." 


V. 

He  disappeared,  as  not  his  own, 

lie  heard  the  warning  ice  winds  sigh  ; 
The  smoky  sun-ilames  o'er  him  shone, 

On  whitened  altars  of  the  sky. 
As  up  the  mountain-sides  he  rose  ; 

The  wandering  eagle  round  him  wheeled. 
The  partridge  Hed,  the  gentle  roes, 

And  oft  his  Cayuse  pony  reeled 
Upon  some  dizzy  crag,  and  gazed 

Down  cloudy  chasms,  falling  storms, 
While  higher  yet  the  peaks  uj^raised 

Against  the  winds  their  giant  forms. 
On,  on  and  on,  past  Idaho, 

On  past  the  mighty  Saline  sea. 
His  covering  at  niglit  the  snow, 

His  only  sentinel  a  tree. 
On,  past  Portneuf's  basaltic  heights, 

On  where  the  San  Juan  Mountains  lay, 


WHITMAN'S  HIDE  FOR  OREGON.  247 

Through  sunless  days  and  starless  nights. 

Toward  Taos  and  far  Santo  Fe. 
O'er  taljle-lands  of  sleet  and  hail, 

Throngli  i)ine-roofed  gorges,  cafions  cold. 
Now  fording  streams  incased  in  mail 

Of  ice,  like  Alpine  knights  of  old. 
Still  on,  and  on,  forgetful  on. 

Till  far  hehind  lay  Walla- AValla, 
And  far  the  lields  of  Oregon. 

VI. 

The  winter  deepened,  sharper  grew 

The  hail  and  sleet,  the  frost  and  snow  ; 
Not  e'en  the  eagle  o'er  him  Hew, 

And  scarce  the  partridge's  wing  below. 
The  land  became  a  long  white  sea. 

And  then  a  deep  with  scarce  a  coast ; 
The  stars  refused  their  light,  till  he 

Was  in  the  wildering  mazes  hxst. 
lie  dropped  rein,  his  stiffened  hand 

Was  like  a  statue's  hand  of  clay  ! 
"  My  trusty  beast,  'tis  the  connnand  ; 

Go  on,  I  leave  to  thee  the  way. 
I  nnist  go  on,  I  must  go  on. 

Whatever  lot  may  fall  to  me, 
On,  'tis  for  others'  sake  I  ride — 


•248  'i'lTK  ]j()(}  SCIIOOL-IIOUSE  ON  THE  COLl'MBIA. 

For  others  1  may  never  see, 
And  dare  tliy  clouds,  ()  Great  Divide, 

Not  for  myself,  O  Walla-AValla, 
Xot  for  myself,  ()  AVashiiioton, 
Hut  for  thy  future,  Oregon. " 


VII. 

And  oji  and  on  the  dund)  ])east  pressed 

Uncertain,  and  without  a  guide. 
And  found  the  mountain's  curves  of  rest 

And  sheltered  ways  of  tlie  Divide. 
His  feet  grew  lirm,  he  found  the  way 

With  storm-l)eat  limbs  and  frozen  breath. 
As  keen  his  instincts  to  obev 

As  was  his  master's  eye  of  faith — 
Still  on  and  on,  still  on  and  on, 

And  far  and  far  grew  Walla-Walla, 
And  far  the  iields  of  Oregon. 


viir. 

That  spring,  a  man  with  frozen  feet 
Came  to  the  marble  halls  of  state, 

And  told  his  mission  but  to  meet 
The  chill  of  scorn,  the  scoff  of  hate. 


WHITMAN'S   IIIDK   FOJi  OREGON.  24!) 

"  Is  Oregon  worth  savin«j;  i  "  asked 

The  treaty-makers  from  the  coast ; 
And  him  the  Church  with  questions  tasked, 

And  said,  **  Why  did  you  leave  your  post  i " 
Was  it  for  this  tliat  he  had  hi-jived 

Tlie  warring  storms  of  mount  and  sky  i 
Yes  !— yet  tliat  em])ire  he  Iiad  saved, 
And  to  his  post  went  back  to  die- 
Went  back  to  die  fur  others'  sake. 

Went  back  to  die  from  Wasliington, 
Went  back  to  die  for  Walla-Walla, 
For  Idaho  and  Oregon. 


IX. 


At  fair  Walla-A\^alhx  one  may  see 
The  city  of  the  Western  North, 
And  near  it  graves  nnmarked  tliere  I)e 

That  cover  souls  of  royal  worth  ; 
The  Hag  waves  o'er  them  in  the  sky 

Beneath  whose  stars  are  cities  ]).)rn. 
And  round  them  mountain-castled  lie 
The  hundred  states  of  ( )re«''on. 


250  TIIK  LOO  SCIIOUL-llOUSE  ON  THE  COLUMUIA. 

vr. 

MOUNT  SAINT  HELENS. 

We  refer  to  tlie  niiuwy  range  to  tlie  west, 
wliicii  teriiiiiuites  in  the  great  dome  tliat  now  Itear.s 
that  name.  There  was  once  a  great  lava-flood  in 
the  Northwest,  and  ^fount  Hood,  Mount  Adams, 
Mount  Saint  Helens,  and  Mount  Tacdnia  (Rainier) 
are  but  great  abh-liea])s  tliat  were  left  by  the  stu- 
pendous event. 


THE     EXI). 


